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#and did the wind manage to get me to fall over
saltofmercury · 1 day
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"A cycle"
Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader
A/N: Originally was going to make it back to spring but I lost the energy. Also excuse the indent I lost my page break and could NOT insert it due to lack of patience!!!
Words: 2k
Summary: You meet Jason again... but he's a little off. Brief mention of AK! Jason.
It’s been roughly 10 years. 
—Almost 11 since you lost him. You remember his last words spoken, 
“I’ll see you… unless death comes first.”
Gloom had surrounded the city, it was supposed to be another normal day. But you started to get worried when he never called. Days trailed on and you assumed he stood you up. 
Your life is at a standstill, you missing your other half, your best friend. It isn’t until you get the news and the invitation to a funeral.
Death came first.
Days turn into months, years. 
The numbness never goes away, it just settles into your stomach, carefully simmering until it boils throughout your body, releasing—erupting emotion of him on the anniversary of his death.
Some days are harder than others and when you finally think you can go a day without thinking of 
“Unless death comes first—“
the universe throws you another curveball.
He arrives on a spring day, almost re-birthed and renewed. 
He stands at his gravesite. Taller and broader. Your stomach twists and bile rises up your throat. But you tell your brain it's not real, you manage to count the petals on the daisies you’re leaving.
You stare up at him again, the wind knocked out of you. He’s breathless and pale, staring back at you. He’s got scars all over his face—including the shape of a J under his eye. His t-shirt hangs low on his collarbones and you can see scarring there too. His hair is longer, almost touching his eyebrows. 
“I’ll see you in the morning.” He says stone faced.  His eyebrows are knit together. Hoping you remembered what he promised.
You’re frozen, almost sick to your stomach. Bile is prominent on your tongue and this hallucination has taken over.
He can tell you don't believe him and he grabs your hand and places it on his face.
“It’s me, I'm here. I’m still here.”
He’s so much taller than you remember. 
His face aged and his eyes have turned green. There’s a new white streak in his hair that is so prominent. 
And he scowls now. It's like his lips have permanently stayed down.
You never know what to say to him. Where to pick up where you left off. He follows you home, like a stray dog. Loyal to his core. Loyal to you at least.
He never tells you what he’s up to these days.
You do have a clue. 
It’s not rocket science to place him and the Arkham knight together. It’s almost impossible to walk at night without becoming a victim outside. You’ve caught a glimpse of the man that strikes fear all over the city.
It’s not Robin in that suit.
You never bring it up. Assumptions linger.
He tries to fall back into routine with you. He still sleeps on his side of the bed. He still makes your coffee in the morning. Rubs your back at night, and settles into the crook of your neck. But it never turns into anything more.
When you bring up what you guys are, he shrugs it off, plays dumb. 
Did he come back worse? Or are you just sensitive?
There’s a time you remember when all he wanted was to be called your boyfriend. Say it loud, hold hands in public. But even then there were rules. It was kept a secret just between you two.
Now there’s a protectiveness to him, he’s sealed off from you. Tells you —
“We’re good at this. We’re good friends.” But even he doesn’t mean it.
Jason doesn’t want you to know what happened to him. He despises pity. He should’ve told you where he was going that night. He should’ve left a tracker with you.
It’s been years and the minute he was revived from the pit his brain told him Bruce but his heart told him to come back to you.
The pit also intensified his anger. He’s angry at the world. Angry that he’s been placed in this piece of shit city where the same criminals and sociopaths linger around every corner. Shit, he died a couple years, came back, and these same criminals are still here.
Nothing changes in this city. So maybe it’s time he changes it himself.
There's broken walls and broken dishes every time you come home. You think about leaving but he switches up. It's a sick game of hot and cold.
The days are longer and warmer now. There’s a humidity that surrounds the city and sunsets take your breath away. You come home exhausted from work. Your phone pings nonstop, your head pounding, cars and people outside your window are blaring.
He can sense your anxiousness. Your body language is limp. He can watch you chew your lip until it’s bright pink. He walks towards you grabbing your body with both arms towering over you.
“How about we sneak off, just you and me?”
He says with such intensity in his eyes that you feel the heat boil thick inside your stomach. 
He cowards you in until your back hits the wall. The coolness of it gives you goosebumps. He grabs your chin and then runs his hand down your hair, twisting at the ends.
“What do you say?” He says again, a little more agitated that he needs to convince you. 11 years ago you would’ve just said yes.
And maybe this time you’ll say yes…
“Where would we go?” 
“Anywhere that’s not here.”
He’s so certain you’ll say yes. He’s already thinking of setting this entire city on fire and restarting a life with you. A life where you don’t beat around the bush and you come home with a smile for him.
But you don’t. It’s not enough for you. There’s so much tension in the room. You say you need a bath and a nap.
He lets you go instantly, walking towards the balcony and slamming the sliding door.
You don’t even know him anymore. You dance around each other.
On the balcony he takes 3 deep breaths, then another 2, then another 4 until he realizes he’s on the verge of tears and he wishes he could just tell you the shit that’s in his head.
He sees how you eye him, nervous and on edge. He barely takes his shirt off around you because the thought of his autopsy scar disgusts him and he can’t have you be disgusted with him.
There’s so much hate in his heart. There’s so much violence that he beats the shit out of his henchmen and resorts to putting bullets on anyone he can’t trust.
He hears the water running when he enters the living room again. There are sobs coming from the bathroom and now he feels even worse.
He came back a monster.
Splashes of orange and red surround the skyline. Temperatures drop and the leaves crunch beneath you. You’re both home tonight. You’re so happy. The luxury of being in his presence at this hour. He tells you he can take a day off for his girl.
His girl. 
The nickname raises goosebumps on your arm to your shoulders. He’s changed a bit. He stays home more. Doesn’t leave you hanging as much.
After some take-out, you sit on the couch deciding to pick a movie. One of his hands curls up your spine to the nape of your neck, as the other scrolls down the movie list. His fingers play with the loose hair that won’t fit into your bun.
He knows you hate it. Especially when he starts to call it a little rat tail.
You peer over at him, slightly nervous. He knows what you’re going to say, but before you even open your mouth he cuts you off—
"What? I like it." 
His head inches closer to your neck, placing small kisses down your earlobe to your collarbone. The prickles of your skin now rise over your chest. 
“And I know you like it too.” He taunts into your ear. He’s pushing you back towards the couch, peeling your legs open with one of his. Both arms are above you, enclosing you.
His lips graze yours, you can smell the sweetness of the strawberry drink he had.
You inch closer, closing your eyes, but before you know what his lips taste like— he's up again, pulling a jacket and mask over himself and slamming the front door shut.
Tears cloud your vision. It’s always one step forward, two steps back.
The tv plays an interview with some citizens gushing over the new Robin. 
You know who’s under the Arkham knight. Telling him to either come clean or leave you alone.
The replacement hurts more than he thought. He was abandoned, forgotten, then replaced. There was no mourning. Jason thought he would at least be mourned.
It rains one night and your car won’t start. The tow truck service won’t be here for another two hours and there’s a flash flood warning for your side of the city. You stare at your phone, your finger hovering over his name. 
“This is only strictly for emergencies” his voice clouds your memory.
You dial.
“Sweetheart?” He picks up, tense on the other side.
“I-I.. hi. I know you said this was only for emergencies but my car won’t start and there’s a lot of downpour. Can you come get me?” You feel yourself flushed, embarrassed, and tired. Maybe you shouldn’t have called him.
“I'll give you a ride, don't worry. I’ll be there in 10.” 
You don’t even question how he knows your location but sure enough in 8 minutes there’s a motorcycle revving down the street from where you are. It stops in front of your car. 
He gets off the bike, knocking on the passenger side of your car. You unlock it and he climbs in. His side of the car bounces and sends waves throughout your car.
He pulls the red hoodie down. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are a new shade of green. 
“You ready?” He asks gleefully 
“I’m not getting on that thing Jason.” Your head nods towards the bike in front of you.
He laughs. It’s one of the best sounds you’ll ever hear. The crinkles set around his eyes and how wide and toothy his grin gets.
“Why not?” He asks, the smile lingering on his lips.
“You know why.” You respond curtly. 
“You want to get home don’t you?” He leans in toward you, eyebrow raised.
He gets so close to you that you can feel the warmth he radiates. He’s nicer these days, less moody. He’s a lot more rested too.
“Come on, there’s nowhere safer than the back of my bike.” 
And you know it’s true. 
The safest place would be with Jason.
It still doesn’t comfort you knowing it’s pouring and he zooms in and out of traffic with no care.
“No, it’s raining outside and that thing only has two wheels!”
He laughs a little harder now. He shakes his head.
“Fine. We’ll stay until the tow truck shows up.” His hand finds yours as he reclines in your passenger seat. You recline too, watching the sunroof get hit with water droplets. His fingers rub circles around your wrist.
These days you’re not as tense around him. You shuffle in your seat to get a better look at him. 
His eyes are closed. The scar under his eye is fading, and the white streak in his hair is more prominent. 
“You’re staring” he says, opening one eye to look.
“I can’t help it.” You shrug. 
He turns towards you. Wrist still his hand, he pulls you over on top of him. You settle yourself, nestling your nose in the crook of his neck. He finds your neck and places kisses down your collarbone.
He stops. Pulls your face close to him. Hands encasing your face and he stares deeply into your eyes. It’s almost so unsettling you try to count the eyebrow hairs on his right brow.
“I’m sorry for...” He says quietly, trying to find an answer in your eyes.
“Hey, look at me.” He pulls your chin in between his fingers and kisses it softly.
“I’m trying to be better, and I know I can be… difficult. But I’m going to try harder.”
It’s the most he’s said to you all these months. He sounds like he means it. You peer down at his lip, caught underneath his top lip.
“Okay?”
You nod. 
A light halos above you. Jason gets out to talk to the man. He turns back to you — the helmet is snug on your head. Your stomach does somersaults as the rain and wind blow past you.
You hope that these changes come soon.
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richardxoliverxmayhew · 6 months
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//To all my mutuals who have experience with the cold— how tf do you not get knocked over by strong af winter wind when walking around ty ✌🏽 Sincerely, your friendly neighborhood gremlin//
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saltwaterburns · 2 months
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pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader
warnings: 18+ SMUT - read at your own discretion, fingering, slight spit kink, daddy kink, overstimulation, kind of mean!logan
a/n: i very much disliked the og deadpool movie (please hear me out guys i liked the plot and characters and most of it but i cannot STAND torture filled backstories </3) but i loved the new one!!! And there's just something about condescending!logan that's got me so ... ALSO !!! MY FIRST EVER SMUT pls im so terrified i would love feedback on what i can improve ily guys
LOGAN HOWLETT who swore he'd never go for a sweet, innocent thing like you, but somehow one night finds himself two knuckles deep inside of you. He's got you pressed up against the wall, mouth hungrily nipping at the supple skin of your neck, leaving a trail of deep purple marks in his wake. His moans that could almost be mistaken for growls are vibrating against your neck, his stubble painfully dragging across your skin as he continues to practically maul at you, the pain of it so exhilarating it's only making you wetter. His mind is hazy with carnal need to devour you, fuck you stupid like the little dolly you seem to be while his senses are clouded with the scent of your arousal. You were absolutely soaking wet, soiling your cute little panties before he even got to lay a hand on you, and now as his fingers are pumping in and out of your weepy cunt, he can feel your juices drip down his forearm. He uses his thumb to press down on your clit, the action making you mewl. The pleasurable pain startles you, making you throw your head back and in the process, hit your head against the wall with a bang. You groan softly and Logan stills all his movements, chuckling at you, his tone borderline mocking.
"Aww, pretty honey hit her head, huh? Am I fucking you stupid? Are you unable to think with daddys fingers buried deep inside your cute little pussy?"
"Please, Lo...didn't mean to, please keep goin'," you mumble back, your eyes half lidded. You shift your hips, taking his fingers even deeper, your mouth falling open as the pads of his fingers brush against that spot inside you that's making you see stars.
He chuckles, but to you it sounds like another lighthearted growl and something about it fills you with absolute primal want. You want to press your mouth against his in the filthiest kiss possible, where your tongues are tangled together and he's doing that thing where he suckles on the tip of your tongue and it's so wet and nasty that your spit mixes together, dripping down your chin and down to your tits that are peeking through your little blouse.
Before you manage to tug on his hair and do exactly that, these thoughts alongside his thick fingers pumping inside you and his thumb that's doing sharp flicks against your nub becomes too much, and before you realise what's happening, you're creaming all over his digits.
The orgasm catches you off guard, knocking all wind out of your chest. Your cunt clenches and clenches, your cum dripping all over his arm thats the same size as your thigh, now slick and shiny.
You hope that he's gonna slow down, ease his fingers out so he can fuck you properly now that you're all wet and stretched out for him, but he only seems to pick up the pace. The afterglow of your orgasm fades away and the way he's flicking your clit and massaging your g-spot starts to hurt.
"Logan, stop, no more...please, it hurts. Want you to fuck me now, need you in me," You whine softly, trying to squirm away from him.
He only laughs and grips your hip with his large hand, pushing you harder against the wall so you have nowhere to go.
"We're not stopping, doll. Did I say you could come? Disobeying won't go without punishment. We're only getting started. You're giving me two more, baby"
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alicentofhightower · 2 months
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the cost of a dragon
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pairing: addam velaryon x wife!reader
synopsis: addam is covered in cuts and scrapes from falling and running in the forest, and now you must take care of him.
includes: fluff, episode 6 heavy spoilers, probably historically inaccurate w some parts but we’re just gonna Let That Slide, not proofread again oops
wc: 1.3k
a/n: i love him so bad. rn my top 3 tb characters are rhaenyra rhaena and addam. he’s so sweet!! i really hope we get to see a lot more of him in the next few episodes
-
Addam is bewildered when he returns to your home, panting, eyes wide and mouth agape. You’ve never seen him like this, but you guess that it’s the dragon laying beside your house that’s done it.
“What’s happened?” You exclaim when you see the way he’s stumbled in, bleeding from a cut on his cheek.
“…The, the dragon,” He mumbles, locked hair spilling over his shoulders. Addam walks over to where you stand by the kitchen table, hands gently grasping your forearms, as yours do his, thumbs running over your skin to ground himself. He smells strange, like something otherworldly. Could it have been because of the beast outside your door?
“It came to me, followed me through the woods by the shore. I think I’ve claimed him. Yes, that’s what I’ve done. I must go.” Addam attempts to retract himself from your grip, but to no avail.
The pots and pans inside rattle when the silver creature lay its head on the yard outside, no doubt resting from its flight. “Please, my love,” Addam insists. “I need to go and see the queen myself. She is in need of more dragons herself, is she not? If I serve her, perhaps she will allow you and I to live at Dragonstone with her. This is our chance.”
You shake your head, apron ruffling from the beach’s wind blowing through the window. Addam has always been ambitious, has always wanted the best for you and himself. He’s fiercely loyal to you, a quality that made you want to marry him in the first place.
“Addam.” Your hands fly up to cup his cheeks, stopping him from continuing on with his tangent. “You’re covered in gashes and dirt and sand. At least let me lend you a hand.”
He softens at that, jaw seeming to unclench. Addam’s brown eyes have always been expressive, and now they seem to look at you as if you’re the sweetest person he’s ever known. “…I suppose you’re right,” He mutters, “but we must make haste.”
Finally, you let go of each other. You use one of your hands to intertwine your fingers with his, and the other to grip your skirts as you lead him to your room. It’s small and modest, mostly swallowed up by the bed you share. “Sit,” You say, almost commandingly, quickly fetching a spare piece of cloth by the tub in the main room and a bowl of water.
Addam’s eyes almost glint at the way you flounce about before him. He spreads his legs so you are able to stand between them, chin tilting up so he can make eye contact with you while you fix him up.
“Let me see.”
He holds out his right arm, palm up, covered in tiny scratches and sand from his poor attempt to escape from his new dragon. Seasmoke, he remembers. Addam squeezes your right hand lightly while the other cleans him up.
You barely manage to suppress a heavy scoff at the mess in front of you, but you dab gently at it with the towel anyway, soaked with water. “What did you do?” You ask, brows knitting together. “Did you try to run from it?”
“Yes,” He admits, face scrunching together at the fresh memory. You’ve told him to be careful of the sky-beasts constantly looming over the two of you, and he knows he’ll be scolded for trying to escape the damn thing.
You shake your head, mostly to yourself, and Addam’s shoulders deflate. “Well, what would you have done?” He asks, exasperated. “My apologies for wanting to come home to you tonight.”
You pinch his arm. “I only worry for you,” You say, voice soft. Addam and his brother, Alyn, are the only family you’ve left; you’d never known your father, and your sweet mother had died of a fever shortly after your seventeenth nameday. She hadn’t been able to last, to see you wed the man you love so dearly.
“…What will you say, when you see Queen Rhaenyra? She may think you are coming as a foe, to battle rather than service.”
Addam hisses as you brush against a particularly deep cut, eyes squeezing shut. “Sorry,” You say, and he only tips your interlaced fingers up to his lips and kisses the back of your hand.
Your husband pauses after he lets your hands back down, considering the weight of whatever his words to the Black Queen will mean. He almost thinks of it as a duty, to you and his brother. To further your ever so small family.
“I suppose the words will come to me when it happens.” He swallows harshly, eyes averted from yours, darting around like he’s telling himself to fucking think.
You’ve moved onto his other arm, now, and suddenly the odor of him has become unbearable. It’s nothing like anything you’ve smelled before.
Grimacing, you drop the washcloth and cover your nose with your hand, taking a step back. “What?” questions Addam, clearly confused. “What’s the matter?”
“Gods, you fucking stink. What is that?”
Addam laughs. He laughs, tension seeping out of him as he does. “It must be the dragon,” He claims, reaching out to grab your waist and pull you back towards him. “Don’t mind it, please.”
You’re unable to fight the smile you feel blooming, because despite the fact that your husband reeks of his new dragon sleeping outside your home, and your feet are sore from walking to the markets, only to find nothing, and your nerves are set ablaze thinking of his meeting with Rhaenyra, Addam is here. He’s here with you, holding you, safe in the comfort of your humble little home.
The feeling is fleeting, only settling in you for a moment, but you tip your head down to press a kiss to his mouth. “You must be vigilant,” You plead when you pull away, ignoring the way Addam’s lips seem to chase after yours. “And you must return to me. I do not know what I would do if I were to lose you.”
“I will be. I swear it.”
You brush away the dried blood on his cheek with the cloth, frowning. “We should leave, shouldn’t we? Fly to Essos, where we will be safe without the threat of war. That dragon is large enough to saddle three, isn’t it? We can go-“
A thumb soothingly presses against your lips, silencing you. ��…If I can put the thing to use, it will strengthen us. Strengthen whatever I have with my father.”
Addam had always been desperate to get the same attention from Lord Corlys that Alyn had always seemed to receive after he’d saved the man. You’d never spoken to the Lord Velaryon yourself before, but it was hard to miss the way he’d stare at you when you visited your husband in the shipyard, almost melancholically.
“I do not care for jewels and gowns and for you to be gilded in glory, Addam,” You state, pushing his wrist away from your face. “I care for you. Should we not go now? I could find your brother.”
“No.” He shakes his head, standing from the bed, now towering over you. His fingers, callused from his seemingly never-ending work on Lord Corlys’s ship, caress your waist almost reverently.
Almost every inch of your skin heats up when Addam leans down to kiss your chest, right where your heart is. The skin is covered by the sea-blue gown you wear, a white apron tied about your waist, and you shudder at the feel of his lips on such an intimate spot.
He kisses up from your bosom to your mouth again, firm and sweet and longing. There’s no guarantee you’ll ever see him again, but some strange part of you feels that all will be well. It’s a naive thought, perhaps, but one you welcome nonetheless.
“I will come back to you,” He promises, voice rasping. “I love you.”
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myownwholewildworld · 1 month
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uniformed!joel one shot - the police officer
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series masterlist | main masterlist | part ii
pairing: police officer!joel x f!reader.
summary: you're driving back home and, unbeknownst to you, you've committed quite a few traffic offences, noticed by the one and only police officer, joel miller. he's not gonna let you get your way that easily.
a/n: umm hello?? idk what happened, but here we are. i threw this idea to the wind, people seemed to like it, so i started typing and this is what came out. read the warnings and do not judge me please lol this is inspired by this and this ask, so kudos to them! so basically i have decided to start a series of one shots where joel miller wears different uniforms. YEAH, i know, i'm not okay but that's okay. if you guys have any suggestions for this series, my askbox is open! also, i've decided that if i/you guys want, i can write the same uniformed!joel more than once (e.g. two fics of police officer!joel). if someone is interested in being in the taglist for this series, please do let me know. anyways, i do appreciate all comments, reblogs, likes and asks. as always thank you for reading! <3
warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. dark theme. filthy smut. dub-con. age gap, no age gap, you choose (joel is mid-late 40s, reader is at least of legal drinking age). power imbalance (joel is a cop). alcohol consumption (reader is sober by the time it happens). fingering. squirting. oral (m and f receiving). mouth fucking. slut shaming. cheating. rough, public sex. unprotected piv. creampie. joel is a bully and a dick, basically, so be warned. alternating pov. no description of reader apart from having hair that can be pulled. not proofread so i'm sorry.
w/c: ~4.6k.
tagging some people who seemed to be v interested (please let me know if you want to be removed, no pressure!):
@fartcloudfartcloud @liciafonseca @fan-fiction-floozy @sweetlummie
“Shit”, you mumbled as the car keys slipped off your fingers.
You crouched down and blindly dabbed the asphalt, your phone falling off your hand too. You grunted in frustration ― maybe you did drink a bit more than what you had intended. Not to the point where you thought it would be dangerous, otherwise you wouldn’t be driving home. You were already clumsy when sober, so this was no sign of anything, really.
The keys had tumbled under your car, so you got on all fours and bent over to reach. After a few trials, you finally got hold of them. Steadying yourself on the handle of the driver’s side of your car, you got up. Your tiny, fitted skirt had scrunched up at your waist, so you pulled from the hem to bring it back down. Looking around, you hoped you hadn’t flashed anyone.
You had dressed up for the occasion. As you grew older, your group of friends slowly drifted apart, so agreeing on a date and time to meet up had been a fucking miracle. You had been out since midday and sipped on many margaritas to quench your thirst. But knowing you would need to drive back home, you had stopped drinking a couple of hours ago. If you could, you would have gotten hammered. Living in the outskirts of Austin sucked.
You managed to finally open your vehicle and sat down. You hunched down, avoiding the steering wheel, to undo your heels. A satisfied sigh escaped your lips when you took them off ― your feet were hurting so bad, you questioned all of your life choices. A minute later the motor roared awake, and you were on your merry way without a hitch.
That was until you drove out of the city center onto not very well-lit roads. You were driving through an industrial estate when sirens went off behind you. Clicking your tongue, you looked through the rearview mirror, thinking it may be an ambulance asking you to give way.
Ah, no, you were very mistaken. It was a freaking police car, and it seemed like it was asking you to pull over. Great, just fucking great, you thought.
The headlights blinded you, so you couldn’t see the man approaching your car. Then you heard a tap, tap, tap on your window, the officer dazing you with the torchlight. You inhaled deeply, putting on your best smile, and rolled down the window.
“Good evening, officer. What can I do for ya?”, you battered your eyelashes at him, still dazzled by the torchlight.
Maybe if you played all sweet and innocent, he would take pity on you and let you go.
However, you were met with a deep, husky voice.
“License and proof of insurance”, he barked, no good evening miss, no please, nothing. So rude.
When he put down the torch, you caught a glimpse of the guy’s face. Bearded jaw with a prominent moustache, brown curly hair with slivers of silver, an attractive hooked nose, and some devilish hazel eyes. He was in his mid or late forties and was so fucking handsome you almost drooled at the sight.
You bit your bottom lip, a lopsided smile curling at the corners.
“Yes, of course, officer”, your voice was sweet and smooth as you bowed over the passenger’s seat, your boobs casually resting on the steering wheel.
You opened the glove box and handed him the papers, faking the most innocent, girly look you could muster.
“Is there something wrong, officer?”, you asked, leaning on the door frame, gifting him with the tentative sight of your deep cleavage.
His eyes wandered off the papers he was holding and lingered where you intended. You read the tag on his shirt: Officer Miller. Well, Officer Miller looked damn good in that tight uniform. The black shirt clung to his flexed biceps, the buttons slightly giving way to the bulge of his chest, the belt hugging his waist and… good fucking lord, those thighs, the size of a rugby player’s.
Your mouth watered.
You would lie to yourself if you said you were not affected by his presence. In fact, your damp cunt might as well fucking disagree with you. You pressed your knees together, unconsciously looking for some relief to the sudden wet heat gathering in between your legs.
His eyes drifted up lazily, locking on to yours. You swore a muscle on his jaw twitched.
“You were speeding, doing 40 on a 30-mph road. And your headlights are off”, he replied, his tone raspy.
Fuuuuuuuck, that’s why I couldn’t see shit. Were you that drunk? You didn’t feel like it.
Your face expression didn’t flinch, playing dumb might just do the trick. So you giggled, smacking your forehead with the palm of your hand.
“Ah, silly me. But it was well lit up until now, sir, so no harm done, right?”, your honeyed voice pleaded. “I swear this was a 40-mph road a couple of months ago?”
“It was but got changed. Did you not see the road sign?”, he seemed to be very annoyed.
You had no time to answer, because Officer Miller pointed to your lap. For a second you panicked ― surely your arousal had not drenched your clothes, right? You were aware of how wet your pussy was, but not to that extreme. Right? You looked down ― your phone was resting on your lap, but nothing else. A wave of relief overcame you and then you glanced up at him, confused.
“You were talking on the phone while driving, I presume.”
You gasped and promptly shook no with your head.
“No, no, officer. You see, I left it there when I got in the car, I forgot it was on my lap. I promise I wasn’t texting or anything like that.” Your explanation was genuine, but he cocked a brow. “I wouldn’t lie to you, sir.”
“Why? Because you’re a good girl?”. That question caught you off guard and turned you on at the same time, sending shivers down your spine. Your clit twitched. You gaped and nodded unwittingly. “I see. Step out of the car.”
Your heart was racing, attempting to jump out of your chest. Maybe you had been too suggestive. But he was the embodiment of the law, surely the officer had had his good share of temptation and would not yield so easily.
You got out of your sedan, slightly dishevelled, and tugged at your skirt so it would stop riding up your thighs. Officer Miller had taken one step back, his eyes measuring you from top to bottom, loitering on your breasts. His tongue quickly darted out to wet his bottom lip ― you were mesmerised by the simple gesture and pondered how it would feel if you choked on his tongue.
That thought made your cunt gush some more. You pursed your lips ― eyes on him, trying to convey normalcy.
“You’ve been drinking and have also been driving barefoot. That’s a total of, what, five offences?”. Miller clicked his tongue in disapproval. “It’s like you’re begging to spend the night in a cell.” His eyes flickered with malice ― and something else. Lust?
You really did not want to sleep in a cell tonight. You just wanted to get home, that was all. Also, most of your “offences” were bullshit. You were certain he couldn’t charge you with half of it, but his wickedness made you wary.
“I’m not drunk,” you said with a languid smile, touching his forearm, his arms crossed at his chest. “I stopped drinking two hours ago, officer.”
He raised an eyebrow ― Officer Miller didn’t believe a word you said.
“I can smell it.” You didn’t know if it was intentional or not, but his eyes drifted down to your pussy.
“I-It?”, you repeated, lips parted.
He didn’t say anything, just stared at you for a long minute. Your bravery had flaked a bit, although your cunt was begging for him to do something about it.
Joel was having a hard time curbing his horniness. You were so inviting, so insinuating, it was like you were asking to be fucked there and then. Oh, yes, you were, he knew you were. Showing off your boobs, wetting your lips, rubbing your knees together, playing with the edge of your tiny skirt. He had noticed every single one of your seductive attempts.
His cock was hard, so much so that it was stretching against the zipper of his work trousers. He kept his arms crossed, but what he really wanted to do was to readjust his erection so it wouldn’t be so damn uncomfortable.
“Turn around, hands on the car”, he ordered with a steely voice.
You first looked muddled, but finally obliged, giving him your back ― your palms resting on the roof of your car, your knees pressed together. He was sure your cunt was pulsing, and you were just trying to calm yourself down.
The thought made him mad with lechery. His dick was throbbing already.
“I’m going to pat you down, and then I’m gonna cuff you. Understood?”, he warned you, getting close to you.
You suddenly looked over your shoulder, your smile unwavering. You tilted your pelvis back, your ass against his bulge. You glanced down and then back up at him decisively.
“I’m sure we can work something out, officer?”, you whispered, your butt pressing on his swollen lump.
No, Joel was not imagining things. You were definitely asking to be fucked senseless in exchange for just a warning. He was still contemplating whether to entertain the idea or not. You were tempting, he would give you that. Your body was built to satisfy a man’s pleasure ― he could see that even when you were clothed. Barely clothed. Your top was too small, your boobs almost spilling over the neckline; your skirt was too short, your ass cheeks almost visible ― and he was sure you had some slutty heels on before you jumped into the car.
His cock jerked at the thought of rearranging your guts. Because that was what Joel would do to you if he had the chance. He cupped his groin for a second now that you were not looking, pressing it slightly to relieve some of the tension.
It didn’t help. If anything, it made it worse. He suppressed a frustrated groan.
Joel slotted his right knee in between your legs and forced you to separate them, his heavy boot grounding him. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, you’re under arrest for at least reckless driving. Now stay still.” He was fully aware of how the top of his thigh brushed your crotch, but made a titanic effort to ignore it, for his own sanity.
Your panties were so fucking drenched, you feared your discharge might start dripping down your inner thighs. In fact, you let your head down to check discreetly and sighed with relief ― nothing to worry about, he wouldn’t notice how fucking horny you were.
Then he forcefully parted your legs, and you felt the fabric of his trousers sliding against your wet panties. The subtle touch made you jerked your hips up and then back down in surprise, your clothed cunt flushed against his thigh ― you had to swallow the sluttiest moan of your entire life, it felt damn good.
“I’m― I’m sorry”, you mumbled, lifting your body up to break the contact.
You didn’t need to look down to know that there would be a wet patch on his black trousers.
“You should be, making a mess of my uniform like that”, he grunted, exasperated.
Pressing your lips, you inspected every inch of the roof of your car while he patted you down. His big, calloused hands lingered on your underboob longer than necessary, almost cupping them. Both hands travelled down to your waist, his fingertips slightly under the waistband of your skirt.
Your heart was pounding, suddenly unsure of the whole thing. What were you really doing? Were you so desperate that you would let him use you in exchange for letting you go? Were you getting more than what you had bargained for?
It was like the excitement had burnt the last drop of alcohol in your blood and now you were fully aware of what you had unleashed.
But you had no more time to question your attitude, because Officer Miller completely slipped one of his hands under your underwear and buried all of his fingers in your soaked folds, except for his thumb which quickly found your clit. You shut your eyes and moaned audibly, your knees giving way.
His free hand wrapped around your waist to help you stand up, while his fingers traversed your whole slit, from your perineum to your clit, buttering your cunt with your own fluids.
“You are so fucking wet already, you should be ashamed of yourself”, he whispered in your ear while he pushed your ass back into his bulge.
Your treacherous body had awakened at his touch, your clit felt like it was on fire and your cunt was pulsating so hard it was uncomfortable. You rubbed his dick with your buttocks, unconsciously looking for some more friction. Miller groaned behind you, jerking you closer, his cock hard pressed against your ass.
Two of his fingers dipped further down and found your leaking hole, his thumb still rubbing your clit languidly. You whimpered and stirred your hips when one fingertip circled your entrance tentatively. Your back arched, pushing your butt further into his erection.
“Aren’t you a slut?”, he hissed as both fingers slid inside you, your brain not registering his words.
Your moist pussy clenched around his fingers, squeezing them hard. Every time your heart beat, so did your cunt. Officer Miller started fingering you, first slowly, and then picking up a relentless pace. Unable to control yourself, you mewled like a kitten in heat, your forehead now resting against the cold metal of your car and a thread of spit hanging from your mouth. Your needy cunt was so stimulated, so hot, so slippery, you couldn’t stop yourself from coming, even if you wanted to.
So you let go. You orgasmed so hard, you squirted with his fingers still dug in your creamy pussy. But you coming didn’t stop Officer Miller from driving his digits inside of you over and over again, forcing another climax on you a minute later. Your inner walls palpitated so violently, you felt the emptiness of your womb. Then you noticed it: the trickle of your own cum streaming down your inner thighs.
Officer Miller forced his fingers out of you, a pop sound making it obvious that your pussy was drown in your own fluids. The cop tapped your pussy a few times, almost gently, as the last wave washed off your nerve endings. You had never come so hard in your life before. Not even your boyfriend of five years had been able to turn you on this bad.
When your limbs regained some strength, Miller let go of your waist and stepped back. You slowly turned around to face him, but as your eyes drifted down his uniform, you realised that there was a new wet patch on his trousers, this time on his bulge. You had leaked so much, you had drenched his own pants.
You tried to find the words to explain to him that this was not what you had intended. Or was it?
“You’re still under arrest”, his voice was resolute, as if nothing of what just happened had affected him.
Before your neurons could make contact with each other, he handcuffed you, your laced hands resting in front of you, conveniently covering your spent pussy.
“But―”.
“No but’s, blackmailing a cop is an offence too. So that makes it six now, right?”, he cut you off.
You huffed, not believing what he was saying. You had not blackmailed him, not even close, he was just making it up now. Before you could argue, Officer Miller removed the keys from the ignition, shut the driver’s door and locked your car. He then grabbed you by your elbow, forcing you to walk in front of him towards his cruiser.
“Oh, c’mon, you’re now just bullying me”, you complained, your sweet façade quickly toppling.
Miller didn’t reply to your taunting. He simply opened the back door of his Crown Vic and threw you in. You almost tripped but manage to stop the falling. You sat down on the seat, your legs still out of the car, bare soles against the asphalt.
You didn’t know what possessed you, but your cuffed hands darted up and played with the buckle of his belt. Maybe if you gave him some head, he would relax and let you go. You were already in too deep anyway, your whipped pussy living proof of your desire.
“Officer, please, I can make it worth your while if you let me go”, you muttered, your fingers unclasping his belt.
Miller did not say one word, he just stared you down while you held his gaze. His waist slanted forward in an unspoken invitation, his eyes swirling with lust and wickedness.
You were not sure why you were doing this, or if you wanted to do this. But you were a horny mess, your pulsing cunt urging you to keep going, saturating your panties even more. Sure, you could drive home and ask your boyfriend to take care of you, but by the looks of it, you were going to spend the night in a station cell if you didn't do something about it. About him.
With firm hands, you undid the buckle and unzipped his trousers. His big, meaty cock sprung out with no warning, swaying in front of you. He was wearing no underwear. You marvelled at the sight ― his dick was the longest you had ever seen with a considerable girth, veiny and hairy at the base. It looked scary, but also fucking tempting.
“Don’t just stare, do something”, he commanded, grabbing your cuffed hands to bring them closer to his erection.
Ah, someone is impatient, you thought with a smirk before wrapping both of your hands around his circumference. With your mouth agape, close to his leaking tip, you rubbed the precum against his slit with your thumb and then started pumping him. His cock was palpitating, hard and velvety under your clasp ― and warm, so fucking warm you could feel his blood rushing underneath.
His jaw clenched, his eyes transfixed on your moving hands as you upped the rhythm. And then, without prior notice, he fisted your hair in a ponytail and drove his whole dick down your parted lips. You retched when his glans surpassed your uvula and coughed with his cock still in your mouth.
You were suffocating, but he didn’t give a fuck. In any case, he pushed his cock further down, but it had nowhere to go. His pubic hairs tingled the tip of your nose as you looked up, silently asking for mercy with teary eyes.
Miller glanced down at you and the motherfucker just smiled as you were still gagging.
“Look at you. What a whore, you’re taking it so well”, he mumbled under his breath before pushing your head back.
His cock slid out and you coughed to clear your throat of precum, swallowing it. His brutish attitude, although unwelcome, made your traitor of a cunt gush.
“I’m gonna fuck your throat to teach you a lesson. Open up for me, darlin’.”
You didn’t know why, but you just obeyed. Without breaking visual contact, the cop slotted his cock back in between your lips. With his hands on your temples, he tilted his hips forward until his tip stroked the end of your throat. Then he pulled out harshly and started jackhammering your mouth relentlessly, driving his cock in as far as he could every single time, his hairy balls hitting your chin. With Miller taking the lead, your cuffed hands were free. They were lazily resting on your lap until you dipped them down, your index caressing your deprived clit.
You just took it like a champ. After a while, your gag reflex relaxed and you dared to press your lips around his girth, so it would be more pleasurable for him. His slick cock was drumming in your mouth, filling it up entirely, choking you.
Miller pulled your head back sternly ― you were panting like a puppy by the time he was done with your throat. Your eyelashes were damp with unspent tears. You were sure that tomorrow it was going to hurt like if you had caught the worst cold of your life. Your mouth was filled with his sticky precum, a bridge of it connecting your mouth to his cock.
“You’ve not thrown up, well done”, he chuckled darkly. “Clean this mess for me.”
Again, as if you were not in control of yourself, you did as you were told. You licked his throbbing cock, swallowing all the fluids you had swept off his groin.
He lightly patted your cheek. “Good girl, now get up and take that finger out of your pussy.”
You had not realised you had been fingering yourself all along and your clit was begging for some relief. With a trembling sigh, you removed your hand from in between your legs and stood up.
Only then you caught on: he had not come yet. Fuck, you thought.
Did you want this? You were not sure. Letting him finger you and giving him head was one thing, but letting him fuck you was a completely different story. You were not a slut nor a cheater, but he made you feel like one. Your dribbling pussy made you feel like one.
Joel snatched his fingers around your elbow once again and made you walk to the front of his cruiser. He was in extreme need of relief ― his cock was pulsing so hard it was driving him mad with lust. He was gonna fuck that cunt of yours till you begged him to stop.
Unceremoniously, he splayed you down across the hood of his car ― your chest against the metal surface, your ass up in the air and your legs spread wide. If he could take a picture to jerk himself off to, he would.
He needed to see for himself, taste for himself. He was sure as hell that your pussy was drooling, beseeching to be filled to the brim. So he knelt behind you and parted your ass cheeks to have a better look. You whimpered, tiptoeing to give him better access to your soaked flaps.
“You’re such a slut. I could scrunch your panties to fill up an entire glass with your cum. Your thighs are all wet and tacky too”, he couldn’t stop himself from pointing it out, driving his hands up from the back of your knees, up your inner thighs, until they reached your crotch, framing your pussy.
He leaned forward and sipped from the fountain of your underwear, his fingers digging in the flesh of your ass, smelling your sweet sex. You wept, moving your hips against his mouth. Ah, yes, he knew you wanted him to fuck you hard. Very hard.
Joel rode up your tight skirt, exposing your ass to the elements. And then he pulled down your panties and put them in the pocket of his vest, as if they were a trophy. Because they were.
He now could have a better look at your creamy cunt, all smeared with your wanton fluids. Spreading your pussy open with his hands, he lapped you entirely a few times, even your butthole. Joel heard your moans loud and clear, knowing that you had never had your pussy eaten this good before. So he kept on going ― lapping, licking, sucking, biting until you squirted in his mouth, leaking like a broken tap and whining like a bitch in heat.
Joel drank it all and when you were finished, he stood up. He spanked your ass and with a swift movement, impaled you until his balls were flat against your thighs.
You screamed, literally screamed at the top of your lungs, when he stabbed you with his cock. You tried to hold onto something, but there was nothing you could grab. This was exactly what your cunt needed, being stuffed like a goddamn turkey in thanksgiving. Officer Miller drove his cock in and out of you lazily at first, and then he started fucking you stupid with such vigour that your body was being rocked back and forth, the handcuffs sliding against the hood, scratching the metal underneath.
You just moaned uncontrollably throughout the whole thing, unable to quieten yourself. Your cunt clutched around his throbbing dick, squeezing it hard, so hard you felt your muscles strain. Your clit spasmed severely, another fucking climax creeping up on you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK”, you implored to the sky, to him, to whoever was listening.
The cop then fisted your hair in a ponytail and pulled backwards, forcing you up off the hood, your back arching against his chest while he drilled you mercilessly. You were sure the squelching sounds your pussy was making could be heard from a mile away.
Then you finally came again, shrieking ― your treacherous pussy clamping down on his dick, leaking absolutely everywhere, trying to desperately milk him dry. Your eyes welled up, your black eyeliner running down your cheeks.
“You’re gonna take it inside and you’re not gonna complain”, he moaned in your ear and even in your blissful daze, you panicked.
“I’ve got a boyfriend,” you mentioned, but you knew it wasn’t going to stop him.
“Ah, do you? Doesn’t seem like it right now”, and then he huffed heavily, letting go, driving his cock as far inside of you as he physically could.
His warm cum filled you to the brim, painting your walls of sticky white. Irremediably, you sighed, heaving, and closed your eyes, letting yourself rejoice in how full you were of his spent, of his cock.
And as soon as it started, it ended. His dick slid out of your crying, sensitive pussy, leaving your damp skin exposed to the cold air.
You took a minute to compose yourself and pushing down your skirt. When you looked at him, he had already tucked away his cock back in his work trousers, his cop uniform slightly in disarray. Now there were more wet, sticky patches adorning his groin area, a mixture of your shared pleasure.
“Can I have my panties back, please?”, you requested, extending your hand to him, with a sunny, albeit quivering, smile.
“No, I’m keeping them.” You furrowed your eyebrows.
“Can I at least have a tissue to clean myself up?”, your voice grew smaller as you lost confidence.
“No. I want you to go home with your pussy bursting with my cum, so that boyfriend of yours knows you’ve been fucked stupid by someone else”, he explained, full of himself.
At least you were going home. Or so you thought until you saw him walk to the back door of his Crown Vic, holding it open for you to jump in.
“This means nothing, you’re still spending the night in the cell”, he said, matter-of-factly.
You scoffed, angry. “Are you fucking serious?”, you asked, although what you really wanted to do was cry.
But you swallowed your tears, contrite ― your pride was bigger than your shame. And right now, you felt mortified.
What had you done?
Well, you had gambled, and you lost.
But, on the other hand, he had fucked you so good, so filthy, you were not sure any other cock would measure up to his.
808 notes · View notes
lucid-loves · 3 months
Note
simon slowly falling in love with reader after hating her for a long time⁉️
Sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy it! ❤
Nuclear Date Night
Pairing: Ghost x 141!reader (fem!reader, weaponsengineer!reader, codename: Byte)
Word Count: 12.8k, One-Shot
CW: strong language, mention of violence, hate to love relationship, rivals, competitive, competence, realized feelings, smut, body praise, deep kissing, licking, fingering, biting, p in v
Let me know if I missed any CWs.
Story Synopsis: Ghost hates your guts. Even since you joined the team as their new weapons engineer two years ago, he’s hated you with his whole chest. With your high and mighty attitude, bewildering intellect, and unwavering confidence, he can’t stand you. You hate him too with his unreadable face, demeaning protection, and lack of grace. When an undercover mission requires the two of you to get closer, though, the both of you realize your hate for one another has turned into something else entirely. 
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You ignored the icy cold glare the lieutenant kept on your figure as you explained how the new sniper-focus worked. Your comrades stared at your invention in wonderment, once again reminded just why you were part of the team. Thanks to your countless all-nighters and delicate hands, you managed to invent a focus that can attach to any sniper, calculate notches and wind speed, recommend the gun-adjust accordingly, and hit a target perfectly with over 98% accuracy. No matter the distance, no matter the weather, your focus powered with A.I. calculated assistance can kill any target. 
Everyone was impressed. Save for Ghost. 
“Aim at the target, give it a second to calculate, and then listen to the adjustment with the earpiece. After that, just adjust the aim and fire. Pretty simple stuff, really.” You demonstrated, large sniper in hand. 
The wind blew through your hair, dust coating your strands like moth to a flame. From a distance, a whipping dust devil was forming across the golden sands of the desert. It was dry, it was hot, and it was windy as hell. It was the perfect place to demonstrate your brilliance. 
When you joined the team two years ago, you knew that you had to put your heart and soul into this job in order to be taken seriously. You weren’t especially muscular or tall. As a soldier, you did train for instances of defense in case it was needed, but your true power relied on your smarts. A rather overlooked sign of an excellent soldier that often invited ridicule from the more traditional soldier. 
That’s exactly what Ghost did when he first met you. 
“You sure this shrimp can handle herself? Be one of us? She looks like she can barely lift a spoon without straining her wrist.”
You bit the inside of your cheek at the memory, muscles tensing as if you were in that moment once again. The memory of your response quickly took over. 
“Are you sure this meat-head can handle my science? He looks like he can barely use a blender without getting confused by all the buttons.”
You both left a bitter taste in each other’s mouths that day. The taste has lingered ever since, tainting nearly every interaction you had. It was a wonder how you haven’t killed each other yet. 
Setting up the sniper, you prepped for the real demonstration. While you did final adjustments to the focus, you called over your rival. “Ghost, test this for us.”
“Why do I have to be the guinea pig? I don’t need a fucking robot to focus my aim anyway.” He protested, every cold tone in his words deliberate. 
The team shifted uncomfortably, even after all this time still not used to the spats the two of you got into. Attempts to resolve the bad blood have always failed. It was easier to just let the two of you spit your fire until you ran out of fuel. 
“Alright then, tough guy, you can aim without it. Go ahead, hit the target.” You nonchalantly agreed, confident that things were going to go your way this round. Ghost noticed that easy acceptance you gave, his eyes narrowing at you as he tried to figure you out. What was your game this time?
Not one to back down, he approached the sniper and aimed it normally, your focus set to default. No robots, no artificial intelligence. Just plain-Jane markers for distance. Looking through the scope, Ghost looked for the little red flag that indicates the location of the fake target used for practice. After a while of looking at nothing but sand, he spotted the target just past the dust devil. 
He would have to account for that. You planned for this. No wonder you insisted on dragging them all out to this dry wasteland. He clenched his teeth, blood simmering as you tried to make him look like a fool in front of his team. Backing away, though, would make him lose this game. Shooting and missing would also give you the victory point. Either way, both scenarios made him look incompetent.
God, he fucking hated you. 
Suppressing a malicious smile, you antagonize him. The feeling of beating him made your heart race in excitement. “Any day now, Ghost.”
He hated the way you drew his name out like that. The way you so easily said it like it was nothing but air to you. Like bubblegum being blown and popped at your will. His name should’ve struck fear and intimidation. Instead, you chewed on it. Popped bubbles with it. 
Aiming the scope, he lined up his shot, and fired. Watching the bullet carefully, he saw it shoot forth with speed right on the dead center of the target, whip back from the dust devil, and hit sand with an explosion of grain. 
It took everything in him not to fucking leave right then and there. 
“Good shot if you planned on missing. Now, use my focus.” You continued to tease, twisting the knife further into his already wounded pride. There was little snickering coming from his men, Gaz and Soap not being able to contain themselves. They would admit that sometimes your fights were funny. It was a way to cope with the discomfort it brought. 
Silently, Ghost switched on your focus. Out of the side, a small earpiece ejected out. He took it and fitted it into his ear under the mask. Of course, you programmed the artificial instruction with your own voice. Serious, stoic, and purposeful. “Awaiting aim to calculate.”
He aimed once more at the metal target using the scope, the dust devil blowing the sand around violently to protect it at all costs. The scope projected its calculations as if he was staring at a screen. Within a few seconds, it completed its estimations. A green dot appeared way over to the left and bottom of the notches, marking the shooting point. Your voice rang in his ears. “Target confirmed. Aim and fire.”
This seemed way off. There was no way this could be right. Was he really meant to aim so far off? The green dot stayed perfectly in place as he adjusted the aim, his center notch in line with your tech’s mark. He hoped that it would miss.
He fired and watched the bullet sail through the air, ride with the dust devil like a wave, and hit the target with perfection. He became slack-jawed bewildered at the precision. The fact that it could calculate aim with even an extreme factor such as swirling winds was undoubtedly impressive. 
This was your clear victory. And he hated it. 
You relished in his fiery disdain of your genius. A small smirk played at your lips as you saw just how the rage froze his muscles. He looked like he wanted to punch something. 
“God damn, Byte! That was phenomenal!” Soap loudly praised, his eyes wide in true marvel. The others agreed, all wanted a turn to use that focus of yours like it was a new toy. Every invention that you gave them has felt like a new toy. It made those days feel like Christmas morning. You were great at your job and they couldn’t be happier to have you on the team. 
Of course, except for Ghost. Even if your engineering prowess was the best in the world. 
“Really great work, Byte! Are the blueprints all ready to copy?” Kate smiled appreciatively while tapping on her smartpad.
“All ready for production.” You simply answered, proud of the work that you had accomplished. Another one for the books. 
While the boys played with their new toy, Ghost stepped back and crossed his arms angrily. 
He hated everything about you. Your unmatched intellect, your confident plays, your arrogant personality. He hated that his team was wasting money on technology for weapons when a true soldier shouldn’t need the handicap. Real skill was earned by yourself. Not with the assistance of technology. It should be a tool, not a crutch. 
Ghost believed that people who couldn’t aim a sniper on their own and hit a target didn’t deserve to be snipers. And you just made him unworthy of being a sniper when against your tech. 
You looked up at him, taking note of how hard he threw daggers at you. You made him look stupid, and that was your goal. It felt like you had the world in your palm when you did. Someone as respectable as Ghost being bested by a brainiac was always the best. You proved that you didn’t need muscles or height or even intimidation to be better. You just needed your smarts. 
A huff of a laugh escaped you as you turned away from him, knowing that that would just make him even more angry at you. Good. 
You hated everything about him too. 
~
“What you do really is modern magic. Seriously, Byte, how does your brain come up with such things?” Gaz inquired, raising a bottle of beer to his lips. The team decided to celebrate your new invention at the usual bar. Of course, your drinks were on them as a reward. They knew that you put a lot of work into what you did. The least they could do was pay for your rum and cokes. 
You raised the cold glass to your lips, the sweet and spicy cocktail hitting your tastebuds. “The pros of being a genius. Thank you for the praise. It feels nice to be appreciated for my work around here.”
That last past was said a little louder, loud enough to make sure that Ghost could hear it on the other side of the bar. He bit his tongue and rolled his eyes at you, not willing to open himself to any more of your antagonizing today.
The victory was as sweet as the drink you were nursing. Addictive too. You couldn’t get enough of the feeling of success. When you finished an invention, when you helped your team complete a mission, or when you bested Ghost, they all gave you that sweet sense of accomplishment. 
Soap slung his arm around your shoulder, nearly causing you to spill. He was already a couple drinks in. “Yeah yeah yeah, good work! But all we ever talk about is work. Been two years, Byte. Tell us what that genius does outside of work, huh?”
You shifted in your seat, becoming a little uncomfortable with the sudden questions about your personal life. They knew tidbits here and there about you. Some failed relationships, favorite songs, distaste for certain foods. But your answer to all of that was usually straight-forward. “We broke up.” “I like this song.” “I’m not going to eat that.”
Something that the team noticed early on was that you were a workaholic. You hung out with them on rare occasions, you were usually confined working in your lab while they had offices, and you usually departed events early to be in said lab. Besides minor details, they really didn’t know much about you outside of your work personality. They have been trying to pull you more out of your shell over time, but it was a slow process. 
Gaz frowned at Soap’s bluntness. “Come on, Johnny, leave her alone tonight.”
“It’s fine, Gaz.” You put your glass down roughly, the clink of the glass on polished wood sobering Soap up pretty quick. It made Gaz look away in shame. That was at least one thing they knew about you most intimately. You hated being treated like you can’t take care of yourself. When they stepped in on your behalf, answering a question that was meant for you, it made you want to hit them. You knew they only did it to protect you. That you were one of them and this is how they treated one of them, but you could never let it be. 
You didn’t need anybody to stand up for you. You will make that a point for forever if you had to. 
The air grew thick with tension as you silently scolded them for hitting one of your pet peeves. With a sigh, you caved in, wanting to restore some of that fun from before. “What do you wanna know? Anything is on the table.”
Soap’s face lit up like a match to a gas station. “Seriously?! Anything?”
You gave a little nod and braced yourself for the worse. Soap’s lack of personal boundaries was quite well known. It was coming from a place of genuine curiosity and ease, never ill-intent. It was just one of the quirks of Soap that you were still coming to terms with even after all this time. 
“Well. . . what’s your sex life like?” 
Gaz began to choke, coughing on beer stuck in his throat. Price tapped his back to help him out, his sharp gaze falling on Soap for such a personal question. Yet, he didn’t say anything. He knew that if he did, you would get angry at him. He has been pretty good about avoiding your pet peeve and he didn’t want to break his streak.
Clearing your throat, you composed yourself. You weren’t expecting such a blatant question either, despite inviting this kind of open question. It didn’t mean that you weren’t going to be honest, though. That just wasn’t the kind of person you were. You never stepped away from a challenge. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
Soap grinned widely, happy to talk with you finally like you were just like one of the guys. “Body count? Preferences? All of it. I wanna know what a genius views sex as.”
Slowly, you drank the rest of your rum and coke before signaling for another one. While you hailed the bartender, you noticed that Ghost was staring intensely at you. He hated you, but even he was curious on how anyone could tolerate you enough to sleep with you. 
Once you were halfway through your second drink for some liquid courage, you began to talk about one of the most personal details of your life. “Body count of five. All men. Most were one-night stands or sex-friends.”
You liked sex. There was no question about it. At least, you were interested in it. Despite the amount of people you’ve been with, they always left you wanting more. It was always a little unsatisfying when they were finished. It always felt like there was a black hole inside of you that needed the right meal to be satisfied. 
The exact reason why was no mystery either. Unless you were masturbating alone, you never came. No matter how much time and effort went into foreplay, none of your partners have ever made you orgasm. 
Just because your sex life was active didn’t mean it was great. 
“Wow, that’s a little surprising.” Gaz admitted, finally over his coughing fit. Price shook his head, a little embarrassed to hear about his men talking about sex so freely with you. As a captain to a group of mostly boys, he has shared details with them to bring the group together. It felt a little strange to have you participate in this. Even Kate wasn’t pressured into sharing such details. 
“Our little genius gets some then! How is it? Any experience noteworthy?” Soap persisted as he ordered another round.
“Not especially? Average, I suppose.” You shrugged, answering the questions becoming much easier the more you poured rum and coke into your system. Warmth crept along your cheeks, blossomed in your ribs. You felt yourself opening up like a dormant flower. 
You ordered another drink. Soap continued to pry. “Average? What does that even mean?”
“I never came before.” You suddenly blurted out, the blending of your naturally blunt personality and alcohol turning into a pretty dangerous combination. It seemed like the rum in you was getting to your brain faster than you thought. 
This time, it was Soap’s turn to choke. Gaz was torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to comfort your plight. Ghost just stared as if he was watching the news. However, his mind was thinking all sorts of things. He wanted to mock you. Say that that was what you deserved for being so arrogant about your intelligence. He felt the instinct to trash talk you to recover some of the pride he lost today. 
Yet, he couldn’t. In fact, he began to feel a foreign pity for you. If you knew that he was pitying you over something like this, you would absolutely rip him a new one. That didn’t stop his eyes from softening for just a moment, though. A moment that you noticed with those sharp eyes of yours. 
Finishing your drink, you slammed the glass on the counter, nearly shattering it. How dare Ghost look at you like some tragic whore! So what you never orgasmed from sex! You were doing just fine when it came to solo-sex escapades. You didn’t need anyone to satisfy you. You only needed yourself. “I do perfectly fine when I masturbate. Don’t get it twisted. Other people just don’t satisfy me. It’s whatever.”
In a simmering fire, you got up from your chair and left the bar for the night, leaving your teammates wondering what the hell got you so worked up all of a sudden. 
Only Ghost knew the answer to that. 
~
Arriving back on base on your motorcycle, you headed straight to your lab. It was quiet. The dead of night. Everyone else was either back home, sleeping in the barracks, or partying it up downtown. You had an apartment to go back to, but you always found yourself coming here instead. 
Settling your helmet and jacket on the coat-rack, you made yourself at home. Dim-emergency lights softly illuminated unfinished projects on tables. Pieces of wires, circuits, and bolts littered every corner of the room. The place looked small and cramped during the day, scientists and engineers squished together in a lab that was second priority compared to the more athletic-based facilities. In the night when no one was here, the place looked like a tech graveyard. Vast, dark, and cold. 
You headed towards your usual workstation, a large workshop desk that was overflowing with unfinished blueprints of inventions that haven’t panned out just yet. A lot of the struggle came from lack of funding. Some of it came from unrealistic expectations. Science was an investment, something that most military dogs failed to realize. It’s why you always pushed yourself to work constantly and prove what the proper time and resources could bring. 
You were essentially killing yourself in order to make them see the worth of your department. 
Looking through the blueprints, you settled on one that was worth revisiting. A Russian Doll bullet that would save ammunition and materials to build said ammunition. The idea was to invent a bullet that would be compatible with most firearms, shoot an outer layer of bullet without shooting out the inner layer, and repeat until the last of the bullet is gone only to be replaced by another Russian Doll bullet. 
It would effectively turn a six-shooter into a twenty-four. It would save so much ammo and save many soldiers the reload time. 
The only problem you haven’t solved yet was the instability of gunpowder. 
That’s what you decided to work on tonight. Taking a seat in your worn out swivel chair, you opened your drawers and pulled out your materials. Bringing a magnifying glass close to you, you began to disassemble a few bullets. It was always a good idea to build things by first taking things apart. 
As you worked, you heard the sound of the lab door open. It was still much too early for the morning crew to come in, so you wondered who it could’ve been. Maybe Price had come to lecture you about how you left things at the bar. It wouldn’t be the first time he had to talk to you about your temper. 
Turning around, you were surprised to meet your rival, peering over all of the electronic corpses on the tables. He didn’t come here very often. You were always here after all. He knew you were always here. He shivered, noticing just how chilly it was inside the lab. The air conditioning was running on full blast. “Feels like a meat-locker in here. How can you work like this?”
“What do you want?” You sharply retorted, nerves already on edge at his presence. The lab was supposed to be your refuge. Your paradise. And here came the snake. 
“Relax. I’m not here to fight. I just wanted to talk to you about the focus.” He treaded carefully, his own instincts waiting to fire off like they were used to when he was with you. A lightbulb in his head just went off just then. He realized just how bad the relationship between the two of you was since his first real instinct was to yell at you. Ghost knew you felt it too. 
He was supposed to be the 141’s Lieutenant. He was supposed to bring the team together for his captain. And here he has been for two years, trying to push you out. 
Ghost has never even approached you without the intention to fight or yell or demand since the first day he met you.
Christ, was there any recovery from this? Ghost took a deep breath, trying to choose his words carefully for once. “The focus is great. You did a good job.”
“Don’t fucking pity me.” You snapped, turning back to your desk and igniting sparks as you bonded metal with heat. A hurricane brewed in your chest. Did he seriously come all this way to pity you? The gaze in his eyes should have been enough. It made you leave the bar!
Ghost felt that fire rising in his throat, wanting to say something back that would hurt you. Old habits die hard. It was a tough pill to swallow. “I’m not trying to pity you. The focus is going to help a lot of soldiers. It’s going to save a lot of people.”
You paused, unsure if his words were genuine or misleading. You’ve fallen into that trap before, hearing what seemed like a compliment only for it to be backhanded. It was unfortunate that you didn’t trust a word that came out of his mouth. “Why did you look at me like that at the bar?”
He knew exactly what you were talking about, but he wished he didn’t. He didn’t really want to talk about your sex life when it was just the two of you. Especially not when the two of you haven’t even had one decent interaction with each other. Goosebumps prickled all of his skin, his teeth nearly chattering. How could you keep it so fucking cold in here?
“I felt sorry for you.” He admitted, finding himself unable to lie to you or change topics. At least from the beginning, he has always been honest with you. 
As you heard the words you loathed to hear, you put down your tools, hands becoming too shaky to handle them with all the rage storming inside you. “I-”
“I felt sorry that no one has liked you enough to satisfy you.” 
Well, that didn’t exactly sound right.
Your mouth opened in shock at his dig. His eyes widened as he heard the words coming out of his mouth, realizing that it sounded completely fucking wrong. He held his hands up in defense, scrambling to explain himself before it was too late. 
The hurricane was in full swing, though. But instead of bringing thunder, it only brought rain. The corners of your eyes prickled with tears before streaming down your flushed cheeks. A lump choked in your throat choked the air out of you. You thought you could say something hurtful back. You always did before. But this time, his words cut a little too deep.
None of your relationships have lasted long. Not even with people you agreed to just be sex-friends with. They always ended up leaving. Whenever you asked what went wrong, they always blamed it on your demeanor. Your personality was too particular. Your interests were too complex. Your high expectations were too much. 
It was one of the reasons you kept a distance from the 141. They loved your company as far as you knew. But only in small doses. Who knew what would happen if they really spent time with you? They would probably get sick of you over time too. Ghost hated you since day one after all. 
No one liked you. You thought that you were fine with that at this point, but clearly you weren’t.
Ghost stood frozen in time, completely taken aback by your sudden tears. He expected screaming. He expected hitting. He expected icy retorts. That’s all he has ever known you as. He never in a million years expected tears. 
It made him feel like he was the biggest piece of shit on the planet. And the worst part was that he didn’t even know what to do about it. 
All of his years of hatred for you melted away as he watched you crumble, your distrust for him putting up more walls between the two of you. Jesus, how does he fix this now?!
“Byte, I-”
“Don’t you think I already know that no one likes me? You think you’re the first person to hate my guts?!” You spat, some of the lightning finally coming out. The tears kept coming, but it was somehow better for Ghost. He felt more used to that dangerous spark you had. It made you easier to approach now. 
“I didn’t mean it like that. Poor choice of words. Honest. I just meant that. . . I . . . Everyone deserves to be loved enough to the point of satisfaction. You work hard and give us countless advancements to use. You deserved to be satisfied. You deserve to have someone that will put the work into you too.” He finally managed to find the right words, nearly running out of breath with all the effort he had to find them. He was never really good at heart-to-hearts. 
You looked at him in shock once more as he attempted to salvage the hurt he caused you. This was beyond confusing for you. Your brain that worked so hard everyday, that could think up a million things at any given time, was at a loss for words. 
In your uncertainty, you followed your instincts. And that was to turn back around to your desk, wipe your eyes, and get back to work. It was the only constant in your life that you could rely on. The best way to think. 
Ghost didn’t blame you for returning to work. He probably wouldn’t know what to say either if it was him. Instead of pushing it any further, he decided that it was probably best to leave. Before he headed out of the lab, he turned back and looked at you. 
You did the same, the moment of work gracing your senses. In the end, he did try to pay you a genuine compliment. You were always the type to reciprocate fairly. “Thanks, Ghost.”
There was a certain way you said your thanks that made Ghost’s heart skip a beat. A sense of gentleness that he’s never heard from you before. The way your eyes shone bright from leftover tears had him stunned. Were your eyes always that pretty?
He turned quickly and left, the back of his neck heating from the intrusive thought he just had. As he walked back to the barracks, he sighed. The air outside was much warmer than the environment of your lab. So much easier to breathe. It felt suffocating being in there. Out here, he could let his mind relax.
And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking of you. 
~
The two of you didn’t fight as much anymore. Sharp words slipped out every now and then, but neither of you kept feeding the fire once they were said. Most of the time, you two were just back to avoiding each other. Though, the both of you had your own reasons. 
You found yourself just at a loss of words when he was civil. It was that distrust that still lingered that made it hard for you to interact with him. It was especially difficult to be around him when he was actively being polite. Praises for your work, helping you carry heavy boxes across base, or prioritizing processing your submitted paperwork was always done either curtly or in silence. It was foreign to you.
And the energy you saved now that it wasn’t spent on fighting was now put to use by noticing him a little more. You always couldn’t help but stop and stare as he helped carry equipment with you from the lab to the armory. The way his biceps flexed with ease at the heavier load. The way his eyes remained stoic even as he embraced your inventions. Ghost was now more on your mind than ever, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. 
Ghost, on the other hand, was now always thinking about you. He felt the urge to get closer to you. To get to know you better. To help you out in a way that didn’t look down on you like he’s always done. He couldn’t stop thinking about your eyes too. How bright they were under the sun or moon. How they watched him under such careful supervision, trying to decipher if his good will was real or not. 
Even in moments where he didn’t want to think about you, he found his mind wandering anyway. Ever since that night in the lab, he felt his feelings change. Two years of anger and resentment for you have nearly melted all away only to be replaced by something else. And he didn’t know how to explain it. 
All he could do was try to keep cool. Remain civil. Avoid too close of interactions with you. 
It was working for the both of you for months until you were assigned to a mission together.
The team had noticed that the both of you were getting along in the loosest sense of the term. They wondered what caused such a shift, but they never asked out of fear of resetting the apparent progress. Instead, Price tried to push more progress by assigning the both of you to work an undercover mission. 
A wealthy investor of nuclear weaponry was suddenly pouring a lot more money than usual into a country with a rising dictator. The investments coincided with less threatening ideas such as climate change prevention and DNA study in order to balance out interest. The goal was to detain this investor, question him about his relationship with this dictator, and then hopefully stop a dangerous man from getting his hands on advanced nuclear power. 
The way in was at a formal event promoted by the science community. Conservationists, biologists, engineers, and more were going to be present to try to win over some other wealthy investors that would be there including celebrities, CEOs, and politicians. It was a high brow event which made the need for scientific knowledge apparent. 
And who knew more about such science than you?
Intimidation invitations in hand, Ghost waited in a hotel lobby, a crisp, black tuxedo hugging his form as if tailored to him. The skull balaclava was swapped with a simple black face mask, covering enough of his identity which made him feel better about all of this. Looking at a nearby mirror, he checked his blonde hair. He’s never dressed so formally in his life. 
He suddenly wondered if you would like it. 
You still need a moment to get ready, always one to check twice to make sure you had everything you need. Your heart raced in your chest, your nerves tingling with adrenaline as you prepared to see this mission through. You’ve been on the field a couple of times. Never under-cover. The fact that you would probably have to do most of the talking made you nervous. 
People didn’t like you. That weakness of yours was clouding your confidence. Being a woman in science was already a tough world. Would you be able to keep your personality in check if you faced such a conflict?
Nervously, you headed down to the lobby, adjusting every dress each step of the way down. When you spotted Ghost from a distance, you froze. You have never seen him so cleaned up before. When you were coming down, you half expected him to appear like he always has. Military uniform, skull mask, strapped with obvious weapons. 
You didn’t know that his hair was so. . . 
Finding yourself at a loss for words again, you steeled yourself. As you got closer, you realized that your heart was racing for an entirely new reason. Your lieutenant was much more attractive than you thought. 
And he was technically your date for tonight.
Ghost caught your figuring in the corner of the mirror, making him turn around. Time stood still for you once again as you appeared before him looking like someone straight out of a romance movie. Your dress hugged your curves in all the right places, every strand of hair was styled beautifully to frame your face, makeup only highlighted just how beautiful you naturally were. 
How could he never see just how beautiful you were before?
You walked closer and cleared your throat, that voice he thought was so annoying before now sounding like the sweetest violin. “Lieutenant, you look good this evening.”
This was the first compliment he’s ever received from you. It made his stomach do flips. What was happening to him? Pull it together!
“Thanks. You look great tonight. Ready?” He offered his arm, waiting for you to take it. 
Your heart could barely take it as you looped your arm around his, touching him so intimately for the first time. Heat radiated from his body. The biceps you found yourself staring at before felt solid under your touch. You looked up into his eyes, the glacier blues melting into a deep ocean. Looking away suddenly, you attempted to hide your blush. He was looking at you so intensely that it startled you.
“Do you have to stare?” You questioned a little too sharply than you intended. You braced yourself for him to say something equally sharp, something Ghost felt in your arm that was hooked around his. 
He averted his gaze, now conscious of the way his eyes naturally followed you. His mind searched for an explanation for his lack of discretion. The unexplainable pull that you had on him. Jesus, it was like he was. . . 
Oh. Oh no.
“Sorry.” He mumbled, trying to keep his feelings in check. How could he spend two years praying for your downfall to all of a sudden being-
He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t even want to entertain the likely possibility. Even if he wanted to act on his feelings, did he really deserve to after all the fighting for two years? You would probably never truly accept him after all the things he’s said and done. You weren’t completely innocent either, but Ghost had to face the fact that he was the one that started it all. Before even knowing your name, he insulted you, unable to keep his opinion on tech in weapons in check. A matter that wasn’t even your fault to begin with. 
What the hell was wrong with him back then? What the hell is even wrong with him now?
“Hey, Earth to Ghost. You okay?” You asked, noticing how he seemed to be just staring into space as they waited for the car to pick them up. There was a brightness in the night, a rain having just finished its pour. Puddles on the ground reflected the city’s lampposts, cars flashed their lights, and much to Ghost’s dismay and pleasure, your eyes shined replaced the stars. 
His voice was deep and agitated, more so upset with himself than with you. “I’m fine. Just nerves.”
At that you smirked that devilish smile that he hasn’t seen in a while. It pissed him off to no end before, but now it made his heart flutter. “Wow. The great Lieutenant Ghost has nerves. Never thought I’d hear that. Makes me feel a lot better, though.”
“And why is that?” He inquired carefully, almost afraid to hear the answer. 
You shrugged, actually starting to feel at ease for the first time in his presence. The butterflies were still there. They were just much more manageable now. “I am nervous as well.”
Before he could question you further, the designated car pulled up in front of the hotel. Gaz, parading as the chauffeur for tonight, got out of the car and held open the passenger door for the both of you to get in. Soap wanted to do this job, but Price refused. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to shut his mouth if he saw the two of you together like this. Gaz at least had a filter.
He played the role to a tee, onlookers staring as he took off his hat and bowed. “Good evening. You both look dashing tonight. Especially our lady.”
The cover was working smoothly. Together, they really looked like A-list people. The civilians would have never guessed that they were all just soldiers. Drinking in their looks, you let it replenish your confidence. You got into the car followed by Ghost, Gaz shutting the door once everyone was settled. As he drove to the venue, he went over the mission details. 
“We’ll be keeping an eye on you the entire time. We have access to all the venue’s cameras and we have mics hidden throughout the building. Some security is our own too to keep an eye on things. This place will be packed full of civilians, so violence must be kept to a minimum. Non-existent preferably. If anything does go wrong that we don’t notice, use the codeword.”
You nodded at all of the information that will keep you safe, reading the mission file to brush up on before the big show started. Ghost looked over your shoulder, also reading the file once again. Mostly though, he noticed how intensely you studied. You didn’t want to be the reason why this mission failed. You couldn’t afford that. 
When the car slowed in front of the venue, you looked out. At least a hundred people were outside, dressed to the nines, ready to spend their money or ask for money. Your blood suddenly became cold as you looked at all the people. There must have been hundreds more inside.
Gaz parked the car and stepped out, getting ready to open the door for you. However, you were a statue. Unmoving. There was panic in your eyes. You looked the part for this. Could you talk the part too?
A warm, large hand landed on your shoulder, gaining your attention. Ghost looked at you with steady eyes, his tone slow and soft as honey. “You got this, Byte. You’re probably smarter than everyone here. I’m right by your side too.”
It was relieving hearing those words come from him. He was encouraging you like he was your lieutenant. Like you were part of his team. Your heart swelled as you looked into the eyes you’ve been trying to avoid. It looked like he was finally seeing you after all this time. 
With a deep breath and a new steely expression, you nodded to Gaz through the window. He opened the door and Ghost stepped out first. You took the hand he offered you and came out, the buzz of intellectual conversation in the air. 
Gaz drove off, leaving the mission to the two of you. Ghost led the way up, your arm in his like it was always meant to be there. Miraculously, the two of you looked like the ideal date. It made getting into the venue easy as Ghost handed over the invitations to the guard at the entrance. “Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Riley. Have a fun night!”
The both of you couldn’t help but blush at the shared name. To be referred to as Mrs. Riley gave you ideas that you never thought you would think about. It strangely had a nice ring to it that made your senses prick up. 
Ghost thought the same thing as he guided you in. Tonight, you were Mrs. Riley, his beautiful and intelligent wife. 
The two years of hating each other seemed to feel farther away as the night stretched on. 
The marble floors were packed with esteemed guests. Large, crystal chandeliers reflected off gold jewelry and champagne glasses. A live orchestra played with precise rhythm. Everyone mingled, trying to see where the best place to put their money was. Likewise, scientists tried to advocate for their foundations. All of the talk made Ghost’s head swirl. He was used to undercover missions, however, this was truly out of his realm. 
You were better at picking up the jargon. They spoke a language you understood. The language that only the people in the lab on base understood. It was like hearing your native tongue after years of speaking foreignly. Military culture and science culture was so different, that you often missed this. 
A couple approached the two of you, led by a middle-aged woman with a large, diamond necklace and fake lilies in her hair. “Aren’t you two the most adorable couple! I must compliment you on your gown too!”
This was it. This was their test to look like a real couple out as each other’s dates. You put on a fake smile and held out your hand. “Thank you for the compliment. I’m Mrs. (Y/n) Riley. This is my husband.”
The name slid easily off your tongue, yet it sent electricity through you. There was no way you were going to get used to that name tonight. It made you feel lightheaded when you said it. How could you get so embarrassed by a fake name?
Ghost was having trouble getting used to it too, a part of him wishing that the name was real against his will. Clenching his jaw, he looked out at the crowd, trying to spot the target. His large height helped, but there were too many people around. They all crowded around each other. Talking, laughing, flaunting. A slight tug on his arm brought his attention back to you. You were just sending the lady on her way after a simple, pleasant conversation. Through that, you were able to figure out if the target has shown up yet. 
“Let’s go to the main ballroom. According to the recent intel, our target would be there if he’s shown up. Something about him not being able to resist a shrimp cocktail.” You directed, your confidence becoming stronger as you weaved through the crowd. Ghost couldn’t help but take in your courage, finding it hard to believe that you were once nervous. Then again, this was your crowd.
The ballroom floor was also filled with people, but also now with clear advertisements from scientists. Small signs indicated programs with their representatives, helping investors find the right place to put their money in. You read the signs carefully, recognizing a few of them along with who was supposed to be running it. At some of the names, you grimaced. 
“You alright?” Ghost asked, trying to keep his own expression solid as if he was playing poker. He found himself worrying about you now that you looked so pained. 
You shook your head, trying to clear unpleasant memories as best as you can. “I’m fine. I just. . . I hope I don’t run into any ex-colleagues.”
As if the devil was listening himself, you heard your name being called from afar, a surprised tone countering the determined piano filling the room. “Y/n? Is that really you?!”
Putting on your game face, you smiled and turned towards your former colleague and, unfortunately, ex-lover. Of course, this was going to happen. Almost always one thing goes wrong during a mission. A part of you wished you didn’t accept this mission now that you were face-to-face with someone you tried to leave in the past. 
“Dr. Emmanuel. It has been a long time.” You greeted politely, taking extra time to keep your tone in check. The last time you spoke to him was during the breakup. He dumped you after a quarrel about a missing blueprint. You were working on a project together when you were both interns at a scientific space-engineering facility. The blueprint was supposed to help the both of you land permanent positions, but it was made clear that there was only room for one. 
When you heard the news, you both agreed that neither of you would take credit until you talked to the head of the facility. That was, until the blueprint went missing. From there, you fought and accused him of taking the blueprint for himself to get the job. Your hunch was right when you saw the new employee ID card he hid in his wallet. 
You called him a traitor. He called you deplorable. You claimed that most of the blueprint was your design. He reasoned that if you had the job, you would neglect him anyways with your workaholic nature. He then dropped the bomb that he hated working with you, that you made him feel insecure in bed with your inability to orgasm with him, and that you were just becoming into someone he loathed with your particular personality. He accused you of not loving him enough.
So he took the credit and ran, leaving you to figure out what the hell you were going to do about a job. That’s when you decided to join the military as a weapons engineer. Some time after, you joined the 141. 
“It has been some time, hasn’t it? I’m surprised to see you here? Are you here as a scientist or an investor?” Your ex inquired, sizing you up as someone to take advantage of or as competition for investors. You knew his game and you knew it well. You only had to learn the hard way once before you learned your lesson. You never made the same mistake twice. 
Ghost noticed how your expression hardened, yet you maintained that fake, pearly smile. What was this man to you? How did you know each other? 
Why did he care so much?
“He is the investor and I am the scientist. This is my husband, Mr. Riley.” You announced, now saying the word “husband” with your full chest. Your ex’s eyes widened briefly before twisting into a smile that showed hints of disgust. 
Nonetheless, he held out his hand for a handshake. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Riley. It is an honor meeting a man that could tame such a work-driven woman.”
Before you could shoot back some venomous words that were bubbling up on your tongue, Ghost took his hand and gripped it tight with that soldier strength of his. Your ex seemed distraught as pain shot through his hand that was being crushed. Ghost didn’t let up. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t look down at my wife, doctor. I love her just the way she is. I’m sure she has accomplished much more than you as well.”
“Now, if you will excuse us, we have better things to talk about with other people.” Ghost finally let go, bruises already starting to form on the crushed hand of your ex. While you normally would pop off at him for standing up for you when you could’ve done so yourself, you were too busy thinking about his words. The L-bomb he dropped seemed to flow so naturally from him. It made you feel flustered. 
As Ghost led you away, he leaned down to whisper in your ear. He took your flustered expression as you being upset. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were upset with him or your ex-colleague. He knew he triggered your pet-peeve and he wanted to apologize. For now, though, he had to settle with a raincheck. “We’ll talk about that later. Do you see our target yet?”
You snapped back into action, being reminded that you have a mission to accomplish above all else. Looking around, you tried to spot the target. As predicted, there he was, gorging himself on shrimp and champagne. “10 o’clock.”
He looked over and confirmed. “Target spotted. Good eye. Ready?”
Taking a few deep breaths to reset your brain, you nodded. Swiftly, the both of you approach the target just as he was taking another flute from a silver tray. You changed your serious demeanor into a more graceful one. Someone worth giving money to. Someone that the target will like. “Mr. Marston. I was hoping to finally meet you tonight. I am Y/n Riley. This is my husband. You are such an inspiration to both scientists and investors.”
“Ha! A couple of fans with good taste! A pleasure to meet such a handsome couple! I’ve been in the business for a long time though, so I know you must want something. Can’t pull the wool over these eyes, even if they are old.” He laughed cheerfully as he raised more alcohol to his lips. 
It seemed that this would be easier than you thought. People like Mr. Marston made you sick. People with way too much time and money on their hands to shape the world as they saw fit, regardless of the good of the people. Nuclear war would be a disaster. And yet, this man treated it as lightly as the glass in his hand. Careless. Spilling over with each movement. Such a fragile thing away from one wrong move before shattering into a hundred pieces. 
“With age comes experience and wisdom. I am a scientist looking for an investor. Though my studies tend to be a little. . . unconventional.” You buttered him up before casting your line. All he had to do was take the bait.
And that he did. His eyebrows rose with interest at your choice of words. He felt his wallet burning a hole in his pocket. “Unconventional, you say? Well, I am all for out-of-the-box solutions to our world’s problems. Care to elaborate on your odd studies?”
You looked up at Ghost, awaiting some sort of signal that you may proceed with luring the target to where you needed him to be. He gave a single nod, disguising it as full support for his lovely wife. You were handling this much better than he expected. Or perhaps, this is how you always were under pressure. His judgment was always just too clouded with contempt to see it. 
“We would love to talk about our project, but such a thing is rather sensitive in nature. I would hate to upset some over-hearers. Perhaps we shall meet later once the formal is over?” You played cautiously, not yet reeling in such a loose bite. 
“Oh my, now you really have my interest! There are a few study spaces at this venue reserved for investors and scientist contract negotiations. I haven’t committed to any facility yet, so why don’t I start with reviewing you? What do you say?”
Hook, line, and sinker. “That would be most ideal, Mr. Marston. Just lead the way.”
Grabbing a few shrimps to go, the target led the way to a more private area of the venue. Everything was smooth, all according to plan. The crowd parted away for the richest investor here, making the exit quite swift. Once the three of you separated from the main event down to a much quieter room, Ghost detained him with cuffs. A button on his watch was pressed, signaling to the team that the target was in custody. 
“Wh-What?! What is all this now?!” Mr. Marston protested, hoping that someone would come to his rescue. 
“Lieutenant Ghost and Sargent Byte. You are being taken into military custody for involvement with nuclear investments. We just need to ask you some questions.” You explained carefully, trying to keep the target calm so you didn’t attract unwanted attention. Cool, calm, and collected. Ghost thought it was a good look on you. You weren’t normally involved like this, so he couldn’t help but think so. 
He had it worse than he thought. Seriously, what was with him?
While Ghost took his hands off the target for a moment to reach for his phone, feeling an incoming message, the target swirled around and tried to bolt. Not in the direction of an exit, though. Instead, he was running straight to you, binded fists raised to strike you. Thanks to your self-defense classes through the military, you acted on pure instinct. You dodged his fists and struck his jugular with a sharp strike of the side of your hand. He gasped for air and collapsed, tears streaming down his face as if he would die from the loss of oxygen. 
Ghost’s attraction to you increased tenfold as you nonchalantly fixed your dress like a meager wind just caused only slight agitation. He forgot just how capable you could be physically, not just intellectually.
Right on time, Price waltzed in wearing his common military uniform. He didn’t even bat an eye at the struggling target. “Transportation is outside. Well done, you two! It was about time you worked together on something. I hope to see more of this in the future!” 
You made some distance between you and Ghost, not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea. For some reason, it pained Ghost to see you put up that wall again so soon after the mission. Was this the first and last time you would get along so well with him?
No, he decided. He told you that he would speak to you later about the interaction with Emmanuel. Then, he would knock your walls down. Finally get to know the real you.
From there, we can really determine if his feelings were just a fluke or not. 
~
You were back at the hotel, wiping your makeup off and stripping yourself out of the formal dress. Your muscles ache at the new freedom, having been fed up with such a fitted dress and heels. After showering and putting on some pajamas, you got into bed and began to read. You were rewarded for your work with a one-night’s stay at the luxury hotel, and you were taking full advantage of it. 
After reading, you were going to order hotel service and then go to bed. The life of luxury that was more than enough for you. As you began reading the next chapter of your book, you heard a knock at the door. Sighing, you bookmarked your page, and answered it. You were surprised to see Ghost standing there, smelling like fresh maplewood and citrus soap. A plain shirt clung to his torso and pajama pants made him look like a new man altogether. He had his black facemask on still, but once he let himself in, he took it off. 
This was the first time you have ever seen his full face uncovered. You noticed the small scar on his upper lip that matched the one on his right brow. His jaw was strong as if chiseled from marble. You couldn’t deny it. Ghost was a very attractive man.
“Sorry to barge in like this. I said we were going to talk, so here I am.” He explained, taking a seat on the edge of your king bed. He was drinking you in too. The pajama shorts that showed off your thighs, the cami that exposed your delicate shoulders. Your hair was still damp and scented with lavender and vanilla. His heart picked up speed as he felt a pull of attraction to you. 
How could he have ever hated a beautiful thing like you?
You found it a little rude that he just barged in, but you let it slide for once. From his tone, he didn’t seem like he wanted to fight. Besides, those deep blues were starting to melt your icy heart little by little. Just for tonight.
You took a seat on the bed next to him and looked up. “What is there to talk about? He’s just a man from my past.”
At that, he felt his muscles tense. He knew that there was more to the story. Ghost detected your evasion of the subject as clear as day. It was something he experienced nearly every day before this. He knew your tell. “I know it wasn’t just that. What he said, how you looked. What happened?”
Out of all people, you least expected Ghost to hound you about this. He has never been interested in your personal life before. Then again, your relationship has changed dramatically since the night in the lab. Before you knew it, you started to feel yourself open up to him a little. 
You stared down into your lap. “He’s an ex. We were interns together, he took all the credit for a project we did, he got a job, and I didn’t. He insulted me, dumped me, and then left. I left to work in the military. That’s really all there is to it.”
While your tone tried to keep it casual, Ghost knew it was really a tragedy. No wonder you didn’t trust easily. Now he wished he broke that guy’s hand when he had the chance. 
Did he really have room to talk though? He made you distrust people even more easily when he first met you. It was about time he apologized for it all. “Listen, Y/n. I’m sorry. About everything. For the two years of fighting. All the insults, all the exclusion. Everything. I should have been a better teammate, lieutenant, and even friend to you. I’m sorry.”
You didn’t know what to say, a new trick of his that seemed to have worked time and time again. The tick of a classic clock filled the silence as you thought about his apology. The sound of him using your real name echoed in your ears. You blamed him for everything that transpired. And now he was sorry about it. Yet, the way he looked at you didn’t indicate the need for forgiveness. He wasn’t entitled to it, and he knew that. Instead, his gaze was filled with certainty. The certainty to do much better by you from now on. 
Two years to lead up to this moment. You never thought you would live to see the day. Just like him, you slowly found your rage for him melt down to almost nothing, instead to be replaced by something soft, warm, and electric. 
You gave an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry too. I know I can be pretty unlikable.”
“You’re not unlikable.” He reassured, his hand naturally taking your cheek like he’s been doing it all his life. Ghost didn’t even realize that he did it at first. And before he knew it, he was going in for a kiss, unable to resist those pretty lips of yours for a moment longer. 
Your cheeks began to burn as he kissed you so suddenly, yet you didn’t fight it. You couldn’t. Something was pulling you deeper into him. A passion that was always there from the beginning. Hate or love, you have always been passionate about Ghost. Maybe that was why you truly hated him in the first place. 
Ghost couldn’t stop himself, deepening the kiss with each second that passed, reveling in how sweet you tasted on his lips. He’s been obsessed with you since the beginning. A fire within him had always burned for you. He just wished he realized that it was actually love much sooner. Perhaps if he did, you really would’ve been Mrs. Riley tonight. 
All the things he hated about you before were things he loved about you now. Your soft lips, your silky hair, your amazing intellect. All of the things that he could never match. You were better than him. However, he didn’t care anymore. He actually appreciated it now. 
“I’m sorry, Y/n. I really am.” He whispered as he pulled you closer, wrapping you in his embrace. You felt his firm muscles against you so much better now than before, the shirt he was wearing leaving little to the imagination with how fitted it was. 
It honestly turned you on. 
You took the initiative to reconnect your lips, your mouth opening to invite his tongue. Nerves fired off in every inch of your skin as his slick tongue met yours. Your toes curled as he felt you up, groping your thighs and waist like they would disappear any moment. His hands felt so good on you that you shivered, yearning for more. 
Things were getting out of control, but Ghost didn’t care. Tonight, he wanted you more than he has ever wanted anything from you. To appreciate all the things he was too stupid to notice before. You were sexy beyond belief. Always have been. When you were working over your desk with such a focused look, when you were gloating about your new invention, when you demonstrated a new gun so naturally in perfect stance. 
His pants tightened as his erection grew strong with each taste of your tongue. His hands roamed into your hair, gripping slightly to pull you closer. The both of you moaned when you ended up grinding against his hard cock. Once you got a taste for that, you couldn’t stop. Your hips grinded into his, sending earthquakes of pleasure through you. You could feel your panties get damper each minute as the makeout became even hotter and heavier. It wasn’t helping that it has been a while since the last time you had sex. It made you feel more sensitive than usual.
Finally, Ghost flipped you around and settled you back on the bed. He has never been so turned on in his life and you were the one doing this to him. 
There was something he needed to make clear first, though.
“I’m going to make you cum.” He promised, flashing you a determined look that had you weak. 
You blushed and averted your gaze, your voice low. “You shouldn’t get your hopes up.”
“I’ll do it. No matter how long it takes. I’m going to be the first man to make you cum tonight.” He reassured, gladly ignoring your warnings as he leaned down to kiss your lips again. As he took control of your tongue, his hands began to explore your skin under the shirt. You were unbelievably soft under his fingertips, delicate from your lack of experience on a battlefield. He now loved that about you. You didn’t need to be in the throws of battle to be part of the team. 
“You’re so soft, you know that?” He praised, deep rumbles of his voice making your brain turn into mush as it entered your ears. His kisses traveled to them, making you shiver uncontrollably as he softly bit down. 
He chuckled, a sound that was once always reserved for his male teammates unless he was making fun of you. Now, they teased you so pleasantly that your breath hitched. “Someone’s ears are sensitive. You like having them played with?”
Just as you were about to answer, he slid his hand up to touch your breasts, pinching your nipples and making you jump. “Ahh~! Ghost!”
“Call me Simon.” He demanded, yearning for the sound of his real name coming from you. It would be the first time you would call him by his real name. 
You played with it in your head, noting how foreign it felt just sitting on your tongue. Nonetheless, you gave him what he wanted. “S-Simon. . .”
“Again.” He encouraged, suppressing a shiver that traveled down his spine. It was like getting a dose of the sweetest drug. Fireworks exploding in his chest. He loved how his name sounded on your lips. 
“Simon. . .” You sighed as he peppered kisses all over your neck. Your cami was now raised up to reveal your chest, kisses traveling further and further down to taste all of you. As much as Simon wanted to fuck you already right then and there, he had a promise to keep. He had to take it slow and let it build up. He had to make you cum first.
He took a stiff nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around before taking it between his teeth in a gentle bite. His other hand twisted your other nub between his fingers. The way he tweaked them hard sent waves of pleasure through you, all the way down to your cunt that was still soaking your panties. It felt so good to have him touch you like this. You wanted more. 
Arching your back, you took your top off completely. Simon followed suit, stripping off his shirt and trailing his kisses down your stomach. As he felt your stomach on his lips, he buried his face deep into it. To think that he could’ve had this so much sooner if he was just nice to you from the beginning. “So soft. . .”
You squirmed a little under his slow, deep kisses to your body. No one has ever taken this much time on you before. All foreplay was pretty exclusive to your breasts or cunt with your previous partners. Simon was taking the time to appreciate your whole body. It felt so intimate. “Simon. . ?”
God, he loved it when you said his name. “Y/n?”
You were starting to like the sound of your name coming from him too. A blush swept across your cheeks. “You can be a little rougher.”
He smirked, this time making you tremble in excitement rather than rage. “Is that what you like? You like it a little rough?”
“I like the firmer sensation. Nothing too crazy.” You elaborated, always one to speak your mind even in a moment like this. If you were going to have sex with Simon Riley, if he wanted to make you cum, information like this was important.
Simon hummed against your skin, his hands working to pull off your pants. The vibrations made you sigh. Once your shorts and panties were off, he settled himself between your legs. Your dripping cunt was such a pretty sight. Pink, wet, and sweet. He bit the inside of your thigh, making you gasp in pleasure. “Like that? Is this what your previous partners did to you?” 
“N-No. . .” You admitted. Your previous partners never really listened to what you liked even if you told them straight-forwardly. At least not enough to get you to tremble like Simon did. It seemed like the man you hated before was really the best so far in bed. 
“Good. Their loss.” He murmured, biting down on your thighs soon after and leaving a deep love-bite. You bit your lower lip and whimpered, the sensation sending shockwaves. Simon kept going further and further down on you, relishing each time you moaned and quivered. He wanted more. He wanted to make you scream.
His lips latched onto your swollen clit, biting it between his teeth and flicking it with his tongue. He tasted your nectar on his tongue, a taste that instantly made him addicted to it. You arched your back and grabbed his hair suddenly, silky soft strands feeling nice between your fingers. 
Just like he wanted, you moaned his name over and over again. His tongue kept lathering your clit firmly and with even strokes. Fingers prodded at your opening, spreading your wetness all over you until he was able to put two of his fingers inside. God, you were tight. 
“Ahh~! Right there, Simon!” You encouraged, your ability to speak your mind unwavering. Simone found that insanely attractive as he pushed his fingers in further and curled right at that spongy spot that was driving you crazy. His teeth pulled at your folds before being soothed with his tongue. Your clit twitched as he pressed his tongue up against it once more, all the while pumping his fingers into your soaked pussy. 
Your grip on his hair got tighter as he kept pushing you to the edge. The sensation made his own cock twitch under his clothes, making him press it up against the mattress to grind into. He wished it was your pussy he was grinding into already, but you were so close. He could feel it. You could feel it. 
He didn’t stop his pace. Strong, even, and slow. You tightened around his fingers each second, feeling the wave approach closer and closer. You could already tell that this was going to be a big one. Your first orgasm with a partner ever. 
Tilting your head back, you moaned louder and louder. You begged for more and more, praying to a god that Simon wasn’t just going to leave you hanging. Now that would be pure evil. The worst thing he could ever do to you. But he didn’t. He just kept nipping, sucking, biting, and licking to the point that your head was spinning. 
Before you could warn him, your vision saw white and you screamed. Simon could feel you suck in his fingers so tight that he smiled as he still landed kisses on your clit. Your legs trembled, aching to close or kick out the electricity that coarse through you. Your cum was spilling everywhere. All over his fingers down to his wrist, coating your thighs in a sweet glaze. 
While you tried to catch your breath, Simon licked up every drop. “How was that? Everything you thought it would be?
You looked down to see his eyes ablaze with victory and a sexy smirk on his lips. You sighed and nodded. “Credit where credit is due. That was really good.”
“Good. Because you’re not done yet.” He decided, already stripping off his pajama pants to reveal his rock hard erection. He was bigger than you expected, all that shit talk for two years making you believe that he was making up for something. But he was blessed with the girth, the length, and the look that you knew would be amazing.
He positioned himself between your legs, coating his length with your slick. Shivers started again as the tip rubbed against your clit. The both of you sighed, enjoying each other’s bodies to the fullest extent.
Suddenly, Simon pushed all of his cock into you, bottoming out within a second. You gripped the sheets tight in your fist as you cried out. He stretched you out so pleasurably, so fully. You’ve never felt so full in your sex life. 
Simon hissed as you clenched around him. “Fucking hell, you’re so tight. . .”
Slowly, he began to move. Long even strokes that rubbed every inch of you and him. As he looked down at you, face twisting into such a pleasurable expression, eyes only on him, he heard his heart beat in his ears. God damn, you were gorgeous. 
Your eyes widened as he came down for a kiss, his tongue taking full control while his hips remained steady. The sudden rush of the kiss and his cock reaching deeper made you scratch at his shoulders. He was eating up all of your moans like candy. 
“F-Fuck~! Simon, wait!” You begged, the sensation getting overwhelming with each deep thrust. He could feel you getting tighter. Wetter. He knew that you were getting close to another orgasm, and he wasn’t going to stop for a second.
He sat up and pushed your legs down by your thighs, spreading you wide open and making you take all of him as deep as you can. You clawed his hands as your climax approached even faster, Simon ignoring all of your cries for him to wait. The sounds of your wet sex echoed in the room along with your sensual moans, causing you to get even more aroused. Christ, his cock was so good!
You were plunged into an orgasm, your whole body quaking as you arched and screamed it out. Simon felt your pussy wrap tightly around him, trying to take everything from him before he was ready. It was dizzying how good your insides felt coiling around him. He loved how you soaked his dick and crotch full with your hot cum. 
Simon grabbed your thighs tight, squeezing hard and clenching his teeth while he tried to stop himself from climaxing too soon. He wanted to stretch this night out for as long as he could.
While you settled down from your second orgasm, you gazed up at Simon who was struggling to keep himself together. You lifted your arms and touched his strong, muscular chest that was shimmering in sweat. You could feel how hard his heart was beating under your fingertips. You could feel him twitch hard inside you, aching to fuck you again. Your body was weak, though. You didn’t know if you could last for much longer. Every nerve in your body felt like it was melting. “Si-”
“I know. Your body won’t stop shaking. Just until I cum, yeah?” He observed, fingers tracing your trembling curves.
At the idea of Simon cumming, your body regained new energy that you didn’t know you had. You wanted to see it. Feel it. You wanted to see your lieutenant crumble from the power of your body. “Fuck me then, Simon.”
He didn’t have to be told twice. His hips went into overdrive, thrusting in and out of you with ease from all of your slick. You felt him hit that wonderful spot of yours that made you see stars over and over again, your body already on the edge once again. 
Simon picked you up off the bed and turned, settling you on his lap while he laid back. He didn’t relinquish any control, however. He just wanted to grope your delicious ass while he thrusted up inside you, hitting nice and deep. With the new view and new places to touch, he was losing his mind. 
You weren’t expecting this new position, but you didn’t reject it either. In fact, it felt heavenly. He hit that g-spot at just the right angle and you loved how he manhandled your butt so roughly. You liked how his eyes never looked away from your body, drinking it all in like the finest wine. From this position, you could feel his solid cock twitch inside of you.
Struggling yourself up, limbs feeling like jelly, you fell onto his chest, your tits pressing firmly into him. That sent him over the edge, his grip on your ass making his nails dig into your skin. Once you felt that first rope of cum enter you, you came for the last time.
Hot cum mixed together, making a mess out of the both of you. His chest fell and rose with heavy breaths, groans coming out with each rope he couldn’t hold back. Your tightening pussy wasn’t helping, milking him of everything to the point where he even felt tingles travel through him. Once he was finally done, he felt exhausted. 
You were exhausted too, your lungs struggling to regulate air flow. Your heart was beating so loud that it drained all other noises. Your body felt slightly numb from it all, your head getting fuzzy with each second. Simon wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to his chest as you both calmed yourselves. 
“That was. . .” He began, losing the right words to describe just how amazing that was. He’s had his fair share of sexual encounters, but never like this. No one could quite compare to you.
“Yeah. . .” You agreed, your eyes closing as you felt the afterglow take over. You felt the covers pull up over you, Simon still holding you on top of him, not willing to let go just yet. 
He could never imagine letting you go now. 
823 notes · View notes
wheeboo · 4 months
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to love and be loved | jeon wonwoo
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SYNOPSIS. in which wonwoo tells you about his first (and only) love. PAIRING. jeon wonwoo x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers WARNINGS. self-doubt talk on reader's end, self-indulgent wooweee, this was painfully hard to write lmao n have no idea if any of this makes sense WORD COUNT. 1.6k
requested from anon: Hiiiiiiii first of all congratssss for you 2k. For the event, ive been thinking the same exact story with wonwoo and #6 from list 3 - #6: “You’re not hard to love, nor are you unlovable. You just… Need to let me in, and let me show you you’re just as worthy of love as anyone else is.”
notes: i'd quite literally do anything to have these kinds of talks with wonwoo ☹️☹️. anyway i hope u all enjoy this <3 hits close to home >< tysm anon hehe <3
join the 2k celebration!
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"Hey, uh, Wonwoo?"
"Mhm?"
"...have you ever been in love?"
A cricket chirps into the evening air right after you ask, and you suddenly feeling like you're holding in a long-winded breath. Then you hear a loud crunch by Wonwoo from the crackers he was snacking on, and you blink up to him wiping away the corner of his mouth. There's the slightest glimpse of a curve to his lips that you manage to catch.
He silently offers you a cracker in your direction, the anticipating silence between the two of you growing thickly. You take the cracker from his hand, muttering a quiet thanks, before nibbling on it absentmindedly.
The night is absolutely beautiful right now, swearing that you could spot and make out the constellations above if you squinted hard enough. The distant chirping of crickets is the only sound that breaks the silence as the coolness of the night rolls in, carrying with it slight breeze that whispers through the leaves overhead the balcony of your apartment.
"I have."
You swiftly turn your head to him, eyes widening intriguingly. "You have?"
The chuckle that leaves him is somewhat awkward, a tad bit hesitant. He crumples up the bag of crackers and sets it aside, chugging down the last sips of his drink and setting down the empty can as well.
"Did you... ever confess to them?" You ask, suddenly feeling curious, though there's a bit of disappointment at the tip of your tongue.
You swear you could see the thoughts swirling around his head. Wonwoo keeps his eyes fixed up to the night sky. There's a distant look in his eyes, as though he's peering into some past moment that only he can see, before he shakes his head, a faint smile crossing over his lips.
"No, I didn't," he answers calmly. "They were too far away, so... I just chose to admire them at a distance."
You lean back against the wall behind, your shoulder momentarily brushing against his. "Did they know you?"
Wonwoo purses his lips together. "Mhm."
"Well, you missed your chance!" You exclaim, prodding him playfully with your elbow. "I can't believe you let them get away, dude. Like right through the little cracks of your fingers. You could've been in a relationship by now."
This earns you a low, playful scoff from Wonwoo. "Are you assuming that they loved me back?"
Immediately, you feel the heat crawl up your neck and to the tips your ears.
"Well, um... Yeah, I am," You admit sheepishly, letting out a small sigh. "I mean, who wouldn't fall for a guy like you? You're nice and... charming. I think anyone would be lucky to be loved by you."
There's a silence that falls between the two of you, one simply more than just comfortable yet denser than ever, because the thought of being loved by Wonwoo seems to linger longer than you notice. You steal a glance at him, seeing his face still turned upwards towards the night sky and the moonlight reflecting on his glasses. Strands of his dark hair blow across his forehead in the breeze. You can't quite decipher his expression, but a flicker of something𑁋perhaps surprise, maybe even amusement𑁋dances on his features for a brief moment.
He finally turns back to you, a small, hesitant smile playing on his lips. "You think so?"
"Yeah," You confirm, nodding lightly. "Absolutely."
Wonwoo still keeps his eyes on you as you glance away, seeing the way you fidget with your hands in your lap and smoothing out the creases in your pants nervously. He glances down at his own hand and back at yours, lips pursing together in contemplation, but only folds his fingers back together the second you reach over him to grab the crumpled-up bag of crackers. He feels a little bit too warm in his sweater right now.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
A crunch echoes through the air. Then another. And another.
"I've just been kinda... thinking a lot lately, I guess," You reply slowly, quietly. "And it sort of makes me sound desperate in a way, but there are times I just wonder if, um... if anyone has ever felt the same way about me."
Wonwoo tilts his head slightly. "Love?"
"Not just love, but... seeing me, you know?" Being able to talk about this out loud makes your chest feel heavy. "Since it's hard these days to find someone who sees you for who you are, not for who you can be. I... I just feel like I'm hard to love sometimes. Hell, maybe even unlovable. It’s hard to break out of that mindset when things get hard again.”
A thoughtful quietness seeps through the nighttime breeze, which sends goosebumps up and down your skin, but you don't mind it because you know that Wonwoo is listening either way. And the more you think about it𑁋the thought of knowing that he's here, with his presence is right next to you𑁋it seems to comfort you more than you notice.
There's a small hum of acknowledgement that you hear from his end, unsure if it's just your imagination or if he's actually responding as your mind feels a little jumbled up right now. But then Wonwoo shifts beside you, his arm lightly pressing against yours.
"But I... I think I've reached a point in time where I can say I love myself a little more than a few years ago, or last year, or even just yesterday," You continue to ramble a bit aimlessly, chuckling dryly to yourself. "It’d be nice to share that with someone too, you know? To finally get over this loneliness. But it's not entirely a sad loneliness or a happy one. It's, like, uh... both put together, I guess."
A few moments of silence pass. You feel Wonwoo gently nudge your leg with his.
"I'm proud of you."
You peer up to look at him, mind nearly going blank from the way he's gazing at you. Or maybe it's just the moonlight that's making him appear so... picturesque. "What for?"
"For loving yourself, silly," Wonwoo muses almost cheekily, and the delighted tone that you catch makes your stomach leap. "Even if it's just by a small percentage than yesterday, it's still okay. You're doing good. I want you to know that."
You're doing good. It's just those three singular words that has heat forming in your eyes that you somehow manage to blink back before anything could spill, and hearing it come from Wonwoo feels different. There's a vulnerable sweetness to them, a sincerity that catches you off-guard. You force a smile𑁋a grateful one, nonetheless𑁋before it shifts into a frown.
And Wonwoo catches it right away. "What's wrong?"
Your lips form a thin line, pressing together in thought. You refuse to acknowledge why you think your heart feels slightly... jealous.
"I hope whoever you loved before knows how lucky they are one day," You say to him. "if you're still in love with them, that is..."
Wonwoo stills for a minute, pensively. "I am."
"You are?"
"I never stopped."
You stare at him for a few moments, an eyebrow lifted in disbelief at him, before crossing your arms together and letting out a small, incredulous laugh. "Then you should've said that you're in love with them, idiot."
Wonwoo sucks in a breath.
"I'm in love with you."
You blink instinctively, once, twice, three times, momentarily thinking that Wonwoo's presence might somehow disappear into thin air. But he's still there𑁋a certain softness in the way he's looking at you, a gentleness that seems to wrap around you like a warm embrace𑁋waiting for you. His words suspend heavily in the air, and maybe the world is also holding its breath just as you are too.
"And... You're not hard to love, nor are you unlovable. You're far from that," Wonwoo continues, voice tender, fond, and soft as a lullaby. "You just... need to let me in, and let me show you you're just as worthy of love as anyone else is."
You could only sit merely frozen at this point, throat tightened and jaw dropped in shock among many other weird, fuzzy feelings happening throughout your body. Something between relief and disbelief. Hope and hesitancy. Comfort and uncertainty. You have the capacity to run yet you choose not to𑁋you're letting him in, letting the warmth of his words seep into the cracks of your doubt.
Your mind reels dizzily, almost like the world has been tilting away off-balance.
"You... You're in love with me?" You repeat, almost dumbly, because you cannot seem to fathom anything that's been said in the past few moments. "All that talk about earlier... about who you..."
Wonwoo hangs his head down low, rubbing at his neck in a bashful manner. "It was about you."
"And you never... you never told me?"
"Honestly, I'd like to think a part of it was you being a tad bit oblivious." And then he just simply grins, his nose crinkling along with it. "But that's okay. Watching you slowly figure yourself out made me realise that maybe I needed to find myself a little more too."
You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, and you could feel the heat of embarrassment spreading painfully throughout your face. At first, you have the urge to brush it all away as a silly misunderstanding. Maybe laugh it off, retreat back inside, and go to sleep pretending all of this didn't happen. But the sincerity in his eyes stops you.
You lick your dry lips, the cool night air beginning to feel a lot less suffocating.
"Did you?" You ask vaguely, before shaking your head repeating, "Did you... find yourself?"
Wonwoo lets his eyes roam over you, taking you in, before leaning back on the wall and bringing his gaze back up toward the night sky. Your eyes refuse to leave him, and perhaps this is what it's like to admire someone from afar and close up all at once.
The two of you take a deep, deliberate exhale together.
"Yeah," he answers, smiling softly. "I think I found myself right where I want to be."
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luveline · 7 months
Note
HI PRETTY !!! I'm completely enamored with your pregnant bombshell x reid and I wondering if you'd write a little drabble about the 'S' necklace she has?? like did spence give it to her or did she just surprise him by wearing his initial?
“Kiss,” you demand, pulling him by the hand. 
“Too tired.” 
“Gonna pretend you didn’t just say you’re too tired to kiss your perfect girlfriend,” you mumble, not even having raised your head for said kiss. You’re exhausted too, but not too tired for him. “Please? If you want to.” 
“Too tired,” he says again, slouching across the bed to put his head on your pillow. 
Spencer kisses you and sets all your nerves on fire, though it’s not the first time. It’s not the hundredth time. It’s not even a proper kiss, he’s just pressing his lips to yours as his arm wraps around your waist in a fuzzy-feeling hug. 
“Love you,” he says, “sorry if I fall asleep on you.” 
“No, don’t,” you whisper. 
“I can’t stay awake.” 
You caress his cheek. “I have something I want you to look at, first, please.” 
“Weird mole?” 
“I’m never weird. Look, you’ll like it, I think.” 
You’ve been trying to show him since he got home, but he’d ricocheted between dinner and dishes and the shower, and you’d fallen into bed together having nearly forgotten. “What is it?” he asks finally, interest piqued. He kisses you quickly. “You know I like your face.” 
“I’m not showing you my face, baby, it’s this.” 
You pull the necklace hanging from your neck out of your sleep shirt, the little pendant twisting in circles. You press your pinky behind it and hold it at an angle for his viewing pleasure.
“See?” 
“Is that an ‘S’?” he asks. “For me?” 
“Who else, babe?” 
You put it down on your chest. He watches it rise and fall, his hand sliding up your stomach, resting over your diaphragm. “Where’d you get that?” 
“Do you like it?” 
He turns your face to his. “I love you,” he says softly, leaning in, the tip of his nose pressing to the side of yours. “You don’t have to wear that.” 
“I want to wear it, Spencer, that’s why I bought it. Gimme a good kiss. I deserve it.” 
He laughs but manages a good, albeit sluggish kiss. “You really are tired, aren’t you?” you ask, curling around him protectively, his hair silken between your fingers as you scratch his scalp. 
“No, let’s stay up forever,” he says. 
His hand snakes between you. He pinches the ‘S’ between two fingers, even with his eyes closed and his face sinking into the pillow next to you. 
“I’ll get one for you,” he says. 
“That’s okay. I just wanted to feel like you’re with me when you’re not.” 
“M’always with you.” He gets a second wind, if only for a few seconds, kiss kiss kissing the skin below your ear, his voice like warmed honey. “All the time. You can’t get rid of me, I’m like shingles, or chronic hives.” 
“How romantic.” You make sure the blanket is up over his shoulders and give him a last goodnight kiss. “Love you.” 
Spencer will make a much bigger deal of the necklace in the morning when he remembers what you’ve bought and why, but tonight he mumbles nonsense praise into your cheek and falls asleep with his hand on your collar. 
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astarionxhappiness · 7 months
Text
Summary: Astarion gets badly injured in a fight, and you have to take care of him while waiting to be found.
Word count: 5,781
Warnings: Astarion being hurt.
It was just another fight.
That was what you thought, at least.
Just another day of danger and adventure.
Never for a second when you woke up that morning did you think you and your companions would be scrambling for your lives.
"Head for the cave!" You heard Shadowheart scream to you over the sounds of the exploding fireballs.
Smoke filled the air thickly, making it hard to see. The thick smoke filled your lungs, making it hard to breath.
Your eyes darted around, trying to find the location she spoke of.
You tensed as a large hand wrapped around your bicep, making you nearly drop your weapon as you were yanked to the left.
Your gaze snapped in the direction of the newcomer, relief washing over you when you laid eyes on Astarion, though he did not seem to share this feeling.
"Things are getting far messier than I care for. I'd say it is time we leave, darling."
He kept a firm grip on your arm, pulling you through the smoke that filled your lungs painfully.
You yelped as you were both suddenly thrown forward by a violent explosion landing not two feet directly behind you, sending both of you flying forward.
The vampire managed to turn himself to land on his shoulder instead of his face, though thanks to the grip on your arm, it made it far more difficult for you to land with similar grace, instead falling direction on top of him causing him to grunt in pain.
"Has anyone ever told you that you weigh far to much to be throwing yourself on people, darling?" He questioned rhetorically, winded from the impact.
"Well next time let's try it with you catching me without my weapons and armor, hm?" You retorted, making him smile.
"Well, so long as you're offering," He replied with a sly smile.
You couldn't help letting out a breathy laugh despite the adrenaline coursing through you, smacking his arm before moving to get off of him.
You yelped when a bolt of lightning suddenly struck right beside the two of you.
You moved instinctively to shield the vampire with your body, looking down at him questioningly as the dirt settled, as though scared something had passed through you to hurt him instead.
He was already looking up at you, seeming taken aback by this show of care, still not used to such acts of love and loyalty.
Neither of you were able to dwell in the moment, though, certain that the next mage would likely not miss.
You yanked him to his feet, grabbing his hand and starting at a blind sprint, squinting through the thick black smoke.
You did not bother looking back for the others as you reached the edge of the smoke cloud, listening to the sounds of battle still going strong in the distance.
"In here," You commanded when you spotted a small hole in the rocks up ahead that you could squeeze into.
His hand still in yours, you took off running.
You were close. so close-
A cry of pain coming from your left was the first indication of something being wrong.
Your head turned, the scene playing out in slow motion before your very eyes as you watched with horror as an arrow slid through Astarion's back, the tip of it shoving violently through the front of his shirt.
Your scream sounded distant to your own ears as you quickly turned to grab him just as he started to fall, his eyes giving away the shock of being impaled.
"Shadowheart!" You screeched, struggling to keep him on his feet.
Now he was heavy.
"No- no nononono-" You felt your stomach in your throat, your heart pounding as you watched blood leaking from the elf's mouth.
"Astarion, don't you dare faint on me! " You cried, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, adrenaline driving you, giving you the strength to practically carry him to the nook that promised you both safety.
You slipped between the narrow walls of stone, panting as you carefully sat him down.
"Star, hey, look at me," You pleaded as his eyes seemed unable to focus.
"I don't. . I don't feel well, love" he murmured distractedly, sounding dazed.
"Hey, hey--look at me! It's not that bad. It's not even that bad. Just breathe," You ordered through tears that started to well in your eyes, your dirty hands coming to cup his equally messy face as you pressed your forehead to his.
"Just focus, okay? You're gonna be okay. I have some healing potions, and Shadowheart is gonna find us" Despite your assurances, you couldn't stop the sob that left you, desperately petting his face before moving off to grab the potion. "Drink, okay? Just drink." You put the rim to his lips, a hand under his chin to help him drink, using your other hand to help tilt his head back.
"Do you remember when we first met?" He murmured distractedly when he finished, his head falling back against the rock behind him.
"Yeah," You whispered. "Of course I do." You went to looking at the arrow, whimpering as you listened to him cough, a small bit of blood and liquid from the potion coming up.
"You were so unsuspecting. . I never told you this, but I always felt bad for trying to kill you. . " You looked up at him, sniffling as you leaned forward to press your face against the side of his.
"No, no don't feel bad. You aren't supposed to feel bad. You're supposed to b-be unremorseful, and cocky and-" You cut off when your throat constricted too tightly for you to speak. "Please," You whispered, letting out a soft, helpless sob. "You're gonna be okay. I don't want you to be embarrassed telling me this when you're better because you are gonna be better." You grabbed another healing potion, though you knew it was futile. The arrow he had been hit with had a poison on it. And unless you could get him a healer, no amount of the potions or magic you could offer him would fix it.
he let out a soft laugh, grimacing in pain, brows furrowing.
"I won' be embarrassed," He replied dizzily. "I want you to know that. . That I care about you, okay?" he took in a deep breath, letting out a slight laugh before whimpering in pain.
The sound shattered your heart.
He brought his hand up to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb tenderly against your soft skin, wiping away a tear.
You grabbed at his wrist with both hands, bloodying it in the process due to having been trying to mess with the wound to help it stop bleeding so much.
"I love you," You whispered. "You aren't allowed to leave me, do you understand? I won't let you. I'm gonna figure this out. We're gonna get you help." You could still hear the sounds of commotion outside, making your stomach churn.
The others could still be out there. In need of help, or dead. .
You pushed this thought away, knowing it would do nothing good to think about.
There was nothing you could do right now. You had no way to know where they were, and running back into the fight would only put yourself in danger, and possibly cause complications for the others.
You simply needed to have faith that they had made it to the cave Shadowheart had seen. Or, better yet, were heading this way now. .
"Star?" You whispered when his eyes started to lull shut.
"Astarion?" No response.
"Hey! Astarion, stay with me!" You grabbed at his shoulders as his hand slipped off your cheek, panic washing over you as you shook his upper half, careful not to cause more damage to his body as you did so.
You cursed, grabbing the knife you had from your boot and quickly cutting a line over the vein in your wrist before pressing it to his mouth, praying to god that it would give him enough strength to last a bit longer while you waited for help.
"Astarion, please wake up," You whispered desperately. "Please. . I need you."
It was a terrifying fifteen seconds before his eyes came open, having managed to get enough of the liquid down.
"Oh, thank god," You cried, keeping your wrist to his mouth, which he awkwardly adjusted around with a soft grunt
His eyes fell shut as he groaned, absently sucking, feeling far better with the strength it offered him.
"We need to get this arrow out of you," You said, looking down at it. "I'm going to need to break off the tip, and pull the sides out before I can give you the last potion. It should help with the bleeding at least."
He nodded dizzily, unable to respond verbally as he kept his mouth against your wrist.
"I'm sorry, but I am going to need both hands for this," You infromed him regreatfully, pulling away when you felt he had had enough to keep him conscious for the time being.
"Gods- Could you not have woken me up after you pulled the arrow out?" He complained as he felt you cutting into the end of the arrow sticking out of the front of his torso.
"No!" you replied heatedly. "Because I can't handle thinking I am going to lose you, and that means you are going to need to stay conscious, do you understand??" You looked up at him with what looked to be anger, but he recognized it to be pure and utter terror.
He couldn't help smiling. A truly unseemly sight due to the blood smeared over his lips, chin and teeth. Not to mention the greying notes of his skin as the poison started to take over.
Still, he was your unseemly sight. And you would do anything for the elf. Even if that meant whipping a miracle magically out of nowhere to save his sorry ass.
"Gods!" He cried out as he felt a sudden pressure on the wound when you managed to break off the arrowhead, careful not to touch it as you chucked it to the other side of the small nook.
"I know," You whispered. Pained.
"I am not entirely sure you actually do, darling," He retorted breathlessly. "I don't see an arrow sticking out of your rib cage!"
"It isn't in your ribcage, dear" You replied, pressing a rag to the wound, causing him to hiss.
" . . Regardless," He went on dizzily. "My point remains. ."
You looked up at him, frowning as you watched him try to keep his eyes focused.
You knew the blood wouldn't hold him for long. He was more lucid, but you could see the first signs of him already starting to slip away again.
"Just focus," You whispered.
"I am gonna have to lay you on your stomach. This is going ot hurt, I'm so, so sorry, Star." You took in a shaky breath, willing yourself to be strong for him. Doing your best to argue and keep him engaged.
"Wasn't I already?" He asked in confusion, making your heart sink,
"No, " You replied, bringing your hand to cup his cheek. "No, you're sitting up right now. . But I need you to lay down on your stomach. Just let me guide you, alright? Do you trust me?"
"Of course I trust you" he retorted, feeling your hands come up to help him maneuver carefully onto the ground.
He grunted, face smushing into the dirt.
"What sort of question even is that, darling?" He continued on, your heart twisting.
"A silly question," You murmured, moving over to sit on the backs of his legs, knowing he was probably going to try and flail when you did this.
"I need you to stay as still as you can for me, okay, Star?" he simply nodded in response, letting out a soft, dizzy groan.
You grasped the arrow carefully with both hands, surprised when you found it to be slippery with blood, only then realizing you had never staunched the bleeding from your wrist.
You grabbed a cloth quickly to offer a better grip, taking a deep breath before slowly and carefully starting to remove the long length of wood from his flesh, listening with a sickened displeasure to the mewls of pain that left his lips, his body writhing beneath you as he fought to try and make the pain stop.
"I'm sorry," You cried, throat tight. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry- It's gonna be over in just a second, I promise- I'm so sorry-" You took in a shaky breath as your resolve to stay strong was crumbling listening to the tortured sounds leave him in an unfiltered stream.
"Please," He gasped, the plea desperate and weak.
"Please make it stop-" He cried out as the last inch of the arrow slipped suddenly from his back, the resistance it had been offering you having suddenly stopped, making you go faster than you had intended.
"Okay okayokay, it's done, it's gone," You whimpered, bending down and peppering loving kisses to his shoulder as he panted in pain beneath you.
"You're okay," You went on, moving off of him and grabbing another rag quickly to press it to the wound, making him grunt.
"It's okay. . Hey, let me help you sit up, okay? You need the other healing potion." You quickly wiped away the tears blurring your eyes, replacing it with a thin layer of blood instead.
He offered you his hand to take, allowing you to help him sit up before he promptly fell backwards against the rocks, groaning as he did so.
"This is no fun," He deduced, breath heavy and shallow.
You shook your head miserably.
"Not in the fucking slightest," You stated, moving to press into his side as you gave him the last potion.
"This is the last one," You whispered. "But you can feed on me, to keep up your strength, okay?" You flinched as a firebolt struck right in front of the opening to your hide away, your heart pounding in your chest.
"I think I'd just like to sleep actually, if tha's alright with you, darling" He murmured, finding himself completely exhuasted.
"No- Hey, no you have to stay awake- Astarion!" You gave his shoulder a stressful shake, making him open his eyes again.
"Come on. Drink" You held up the potion to his lips, helping him swallow it back.
It managed to heal his wounds enough that he would not die from them. But it did little good against the poison working its way through his veins.
he coughed as he choked on some of the liquid, bringing a hand up to wipe off his lips, bloodying it in the process.
"Good," You breathed, pressing your forehead against his shoulder in relief when you felt his stomach stop bleeding.
"Just feed, okay? The others will find us. I'm sure of it." You shut your eyes as you brought your still bleeding wrist up for him, feeling his fangs sink in to the skin tiredly, though he did manage to still find the strength to bring a hand up to hold the back of yours, keeping your wrist in place as he gently sucked, swallowing the crimson liquid gratefully.
You hid the grimace of pain against his shoulder, willing to suffer far greater if it meant your sweet vampire being okay.
Though after a time, you were beginning to feel quite light headed.
Astarion had gotten quite good the past few months with learning to control his feeding so as not to hurt you, but with the poison affecting his thoughts, and making him barely conscious, he was right back to being absent-minded with it.
You didn't care at the moment. If he needed it, you would provide.
You would offer every last drop of your being if it meant buying him enough time for someone to find him and help.
You felt tears absently leaking down your face as you stayed curled up against him, your free arm wrapped around his back, holding him weakly so his side was pressing against your chest.
"I love you," You whispered, praying to any and all gods that might have been listening, willing to spare him.
You shut your eyes tightly as twin tears dripped down your cheeks.
You hesitated when you felt his grip on your hand loosen, and he let your hand fall from his lips.
You looked up at him, sniffling.
You were relieved to find that he had not stopped due to losing consciousness, but rather of his own volition.
"I . . I love you too, you know," He murmured hesitantly, never having actually been brave enough to say the words back.
You sniffled again, cupping his cheek dizzily as you brought your head up to press against the side of his hair, eyes shutting tightly as you let out a quiet sob, leaving a long, tender smooch to the side of his head after a moment.
"I know," You whispered. "That is why I know you're gonna be strong, and fight through this." you put a hand over the wound, sniffling once more as you tried to control your tears.
He smiled slightly as he looked down at you, his eyes unable to focus properly as he did so, seeing blurry doubles.
"Is it cold in here?" He asked absently, feeling a bit chilly.
You frowned.
Though it was perhaps cooler than it was outside, it certainly was not a temperature that should have bothered the elf under normal circumstances.
You put the back of your hand to his dirty forehead, stomach twisting as your fears were confirmed.
"You're getting a fever, I think," You informed him. "Most likely from the poison. ."
"We can't start a fire, I'm sorry." If the poor ventilation wasn't a problem, the attention that the light of the fire could draw most certainly would be.
"That's well," He assured. "I can just use you as a blanket instead, my sweet." He smiled at you somewhat cheekily, making you bite your lip.
"Happily," You replied, shutting your eyes when he leaned down to press his lips against yours in a soft kiss.
You laid him down carefully, watching him shiver unpleasantly due to the cold ground.
"Let me take off you shirt, okay?" You said, moving your hands down to work on getting his dirty, blood soaked armor off.
"As much as I love pleasing you, my love, I don't think I am in the shape for such activities at the moment," He replied breathlessly.
"Gods- It is to share body head, Astarion!" You objected, running a hand worriedly through the front of his hair to brush it off his brow.
"Hmm. . Sure," He replied with a sideways smile, eyes lulling shut.
You ignored him, working quickly to get his upper half exposed. You used rags to quickly cover the wounds with to keep out dirt before doing the same to your own clothing, the thin fabric covering your breasts the only thing between you two as you laid down and pressed your body against his.
You pulled the pile of clothing over the two of you for insolation, feeling him shiver as he wrapped his arms around you, coughing absently as he did so, his throat feeling a little flemmy.
You wrapped your arms around him, cradling his head against your shoulder as you laid halfway on top of him, acting as a human blanket as best you could.
You cursed yourself for having dropped your scrolls during the fight. You had had one or two that would have been rather handy to help keep him comfortable while you waited on the others.
You made him feed every hour or so. The second you started to feel that you wouldn't pass out if he drank, you let him.
His fever developed into something quite unpleasant as the hours passed, his shivering now constant, his coughing coming every minute or so as his body tried to fight off the invasion.
It should have killed him by now. By all rights, the vampire spawn should have been a full corpse in your arms as night fell. And yet, he was still with you. Fighting and struggling to remain conscious.
Though not without a great many complaints and a good stream of whining.
Still, you did not care. You would listen to him complain and whine the rest of your life, and be grateful for it so long as it meant he was still with you.
"The others will find us," You assured for the thirteenth time in the past ten minutes, the fever making him quite absent-minded.
"But how do you know?" He asked in concern for the eleventh time also in the past ten minutes.
"Because I do. I have faith." He huffed at this.
"faith. . Like Shadowheart has faith in her dark mistress? Or Wyll has faith we will actually free him from his contract?" You gave him a look.
"I don't put my faith in gods, or higher powers, Astarion. I put my faith in my friends. my family." you pulled closer to him as he sighed.
"You always were soft, darling," He lamented. "And I may very well die for it."
He grunted when you smacked his arm.
"The only way you are going to die is if I kill you, now shut up and be comforted." You pressed your body against him tighter, cradling his head protectively.
he smiled absently, chuckling as he allowed himself to press closer to you in return, feeling the comfort.
You were maybe optimistic and youthful in your faith in people, but you were certainly forceful and hard headed as well.
He whimpered as a particularly bad chill ran through him, eyes shutting as he tried to focus on your warmth.
You frowned softly to yourself.
He was burning up.
Well, for him, at least. For someone who was alive, it would have felt more like being a little overheated rather than feverish.
"I've got you," You cooed, running your fingers through his hair damp soothingly.
"Just focus on my voice, okay? We are going to get through this. And when we do, I'll take you to a nice tavern, hm? With a warm room and a soft bed. . And we can just lay there as long as we like, and enjoy ourselves, and drink fine wine. . " You listened as he took in a deep breath, relaxing as he allowed himself to latch on the to comforting fantasy.
"That sounds rather nice, darling," He murmured sleepily, another deep inhale coming and going before he coughed softly to clear his throat.
You kissed his temple lingeringly as you continued to smooth his hair back with your hand, listening for any signs of fighting or, hopefully, the sounds of a rescue.
Neither arrived however as you listened.
You swallowed heavily as you brought your hand up for him again, feeling your arm shake with the effort it took to hold it up to him.
You knew that your body was not making enough blood to replenish the stock he was taking, but you didn't care. you had to make it work.
You shut your eyes as you felt his fangs graze over the wounds he had already created the past few hours, though you looked at him questioningly when he grunted, shaking his head as he softly pushed your hand away.
"Star you need to feed," You said with a frown, looking down at him worriedly, unsure if it wasn't enough anymore to keep him going.
"No," He breathed, shaking his head, eyes remaining shut. "No. . I can feel your hand shaking. You sound weak. . I won't take anymore from you. . I will be okay without it for now, love." He turned to face you, coughing softly.
You stared at him silently, unsure what to do with that.
You felt you stomach twisting with love for him.
Even in a state of certain death, he didn't want to hurt you. . And yet, you needed him to, if it meant ensuring he would be okay. .
"I will be alright," You murmured reassuringly, shifting down tiredly to come face to face with him. "I promise. Don't worry about me right now, okay? I've got it." You brushed your nose over his. "I've got you."
He opened his eyes just a crack to look at you.
You were almost as pale as he was, and the weakness pushing you towards sleep was difficult to miss.
He shook his head softly, clearing his throat once more.
"No . . I will be fine," He replied, pressing his forehead against yours softly.
you sighed, knowing it would do little good to argue with him about it. Neither of you had the energy for it anyhow.
"Alright. . In a few minutes then, okay?"
"An hour," He compromised, though you frowned.
"Fine. . An hour." It would be the shortest damn hour that man ever experienced.
Ten minutes passed, and you nudged him again.
"Its time," You murmured. "You need to feed." You offered him your wrist, eyes shut.
"That was an hour?" He questioned in groggy confusion, shivering softly against you.
"Mhm, whole hour," You replied, with a tired nod.
"Hm. . " He did not offer anything more, finding himself unable to muster the strength to feed again.
He was getting less and less each time, and as the poison spread through him, it was becoming less effective as it grew stronger inside of him.
"Star, you need to feed," You murmured after a long silence, struggling to stay awake yourself.
"Star. . ?" You forced your eyes open when you realized his shivering had stilled.
Your heart stopped, your entire body going cold as you looked up at his unmoving form.
You brought a hand up to put two fingers under his nose to check for breathing.
"Oh, god," You whispered with horror.
"Astarion, love, wake up," You pleaded, sitting up dizzily and trying to force more blood down his throat.
It wasn't enough though, and you knew it.
Your heart was racing, making you feel like you were going to pass out.
There was only one thing you could think to do at this point.
You were out of time waiting. If he was to die anyway, then you were more than willing to risk going with him if it meant he had even a slim chance of getting help before it was too late.
You got up on shaky feet, stumbling with your hand guiding you against the rocks as you made your way for the exit of the alcove, mustering all the energy you had left inside of you to channel it all into your chest, your breathing picking up as your started to feeling it go into your shoulders and down your arms, tingling your hands with such power that it felt like it was going to consume your very essence.
The energy shot from you fingertips high into the sky as the words to cast the spell left you lips in a scream that released every ounce of your fear and desperation. The bolt of yellow energy tore through you, stealing every drop of energy you had left to offer.
It was, in a word, glorious.
People would have been able to see it for miles, the sound cracking like thunder, the force of it shaking the ground beneath your very feet.
A beacon that with any luck would offer a way for the rest of your party to find you.
You never even felt your body hit the ground, laying crumpled in a heap just outside the rocks where your beloved remained barely holding on to the last threads of life in him. .
Your eyes opened blearily, looking around you in a daze.
The first thing you recognized was the feeling of something warm curled against you, and the familiar scent that accompanied it.
You looked over, heart skipping a beat when you found your white haired elf snuggling against your side, passed out, but a normal, healthy temperature and complexation.
You felt your breath hitch as tears welled in your eyes with relief.
"There she is," You heard Wyll's voice from the entrance of the doorway.
You looked over, wiping the water from your eyes as you gave him a smile, letting out a breathy gasp.
"That was quite the scare you two gave us," He said as he moved over, sitting down by your bedside.
"We found you with mere seconds to spare," Another voice added, and Gale appeared to lean in the doorway with a smile.
A scoff followed, and you couldn't help smiling more as Shadowheart appeared.
"Hardly," She corrected. "Ignore Gale's exaggerations, Tav." She gave the wizard a look, who merely returned it with a smile, his arms loosely crossed in a relaxed position over his chest.
"Allow for the dramatic every once in a while, will you? "Either way, you showed quite the surge of power back there," He went on, sounding proud. "I shudder to think what you'd be capable of if you ever agreed to study under my teachings." You smiled a little more, letting out a breathy laugh.
"Perhaps after things settle down a little," You replied fondly.
Shadowheart moved to kneel beside the bed next to where Wyll sat.
"How are you feeling?" She asked, looking concerned.
"Tired," Was the honest response, "But I'll be fine." Though you cared little about your own state.
You looked over to Astarion. Wyll read the questions of worry immediately, and took your hand reassuringly.
"He will be just fine," He promised. "There is no need to worry about him. He is back to his normal self, more or less. He fought three separate nurses to lay in bed with you. Though perhaps now that you are awake, you might convince him to bathe and allow for his own treatment of care."
You bit your lip, looking over at the warlock and nodding, taking in a deep breath as you lovingly squeezed his hand.
"He does smell a bit, doesn't he," You whispered emotionally, letting out a quiet laugh as Shadowheart joined in.
"I suppose even vampires need a bath now and again to remain fresh," She replied playfully.
You laughed again, sounding on the verge of tears.
"Thank you," You said, looking between the three of them, throat tight.
"I don't know what I would do without all of you." You sniffled as they quickly moved in on you, crowding you for a suffocating hug, getting Astarion in the process as well.
"Can't a vampire get some bloody rest with his beloved anymore?" The grouchy creature objected as the action of their affections woke him from his much needed nap.
They retracted their affections quickly, allowing Astarion to see that your eyes were finally open, your body moving. .
"Come, I suspect these two are going to want a moment to themselves," Gale commented with a smile when Astarion's expression changed when he found you to be conscious.
You gave the three a farewell, looking back to Astarion who was already staring at you as though you had been brought back from the dead.
You did not even get the chance to speak before two cool hands cupped your face, and his lips smashed against yours in an emotional, adoring kiss.
You shut your eyes dizzily, winded from the sudden passion.
Your hands came up to mimic the hold he had you in, running your thumb tenderly against his sharp cheekbone, your stomach twisting with relief and joy.
You gasped when he finally allowed you air once more, your hands remaining on one another's face, staring silently into each others eyes for a time.
"I thought I'd lost you," He whispered, sounding choked. "Don't you dare think about doing that to me again," He added with angry vehemence, kissing you again before you could speak.
"You are one to talk," You retorted when you were finally allowed to do so, grabbing his waist and pushing him from on top of you to instead lay facing one another.
"You- God, Astarion, I thought I had lost you!" You felt your throat tighten, pressing your forehead against his as you shut your eyes tightly, a leg slipping to rest between his.
"That is apparently something I'm completely incapable of handling. So you are just- You are going to have to avoid doing anything like that ever again, do you understand?- No, forget that- You are never leaving our camp again!- No, never mind- I'm making Gale make a bubble for you, and you will just live in that bubble, safe for the rest of your life!-" You cut off to the sound of his laughing, the sound making your heart swell.
"Stop laughing at me, I am dead serious!" You said, doing your best to stay forceful despite his laugh being utterly contagious.
it was positively turning your insides to mush.
"Very well, darling," He said, smiling as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. "But only if you agree to live in this bubble of yours with me." You smiled, bringing your fingertips to run over the side of his face tenderly.
"Deal," You murmured, soothed by his tender touch and calm voice.
He sighed softly, leaning forward to kiss you gently before pulling away again.
"But honestly, darling, if you ever sleep for two days straight after creating what the others described as 'the most powerful burst of energy they have ever seen in their lives' ever again, you will be answering to my wrath. Are we clear?" You grinned as he pulled you closer.
"We're clear," You murmured fondly, looking up at him with doe eyes.
"Good," He murmured, putting a hand on the side of your head as he left a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, your eyes shutting with blissful relief.
"Now, what do you say to a bath?" You questioned, putting a hand on his chest. "The others are complaining about your . . intoxicating scent." You grinned as you spoke.
"Hmm. . Five more minutes," He decided, pulling you ever closer and shutting his eyes.
You took in a deep breath, more than content with this decision, happy to lay with him longer than a mere five minutes should he decide he desired longer. . .
A/N Thank you my lovies for reading! If you have interest in being notified when I put out a new fic, shoot me a message and I will tag you as I put them out. :)
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bro-atz · 3 months
Text
freestyle lap
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in which: you desperately just want to be jongho's little cum slut.
pair: jongho/afab!reader
word count: 2.1k
content: smut, technically an established relationship, nickname (honey), reader is wearing a bikini, choking, rough sex, fingering, breeding kink, unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL!), completely consensual!
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: atp i'm going to have make this a series methinks
summer boys series: wooyoung, san, jongho
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You were sitting in the shallow end of the pool as you watched him swim around. It was hot as fuck outside, and Jongho suggested that the two of you go swimming, but it was so hot that you simply did not feel like swimming. The shallow end of the pool was in a nice, shady area, so you opted to stay there while you watched Jongho have the time of his life.
Since you were in the water, you could only watch him. You didn't dare bring a book in or near the water, and your phone was sitting safe and sound in the locker room, so you literally had nothing to do. Well, you did have your imagination to keep you entertained, which was running wild the longer you watched Jongho swim around.
He swam over to you and fully submerged himself in the water before resurfacing and brushing his hair out of his face. You watched his biceps flex as he slicked back his hair, and you saw his chest move somewhat heavily as he let out a deep exhale. Your insides flipped and tumbled when you saw how fucking sexy he looked, and you yourself felt winded just beholding his devilish good looks.
"Honey, aren't you hot just sitting here?" Jongho asked as he leaned against the edge of the pool, his arm resting on the ledge. "The water is so nice and cool— you should at least try swimming."
"I'm okay..." you barely managed to say. "Just watching you is enough."
"I know you're in the shade, but I feel like it's just hotter sitting here," Jongho continued to try and convince you to swim.
"It is really hot..." you murmured.
You spaced out, your eyes lingering on his refined muscles and his broad shoulders. Jongho seemed to still be talking to you, but all you could really focus on was the way the water lapped around his naked torso. How you wouldn't give to be pressed right against him, his arms wrapping securely around you, his waist pressing against yours. You desperately needed him against you, but there was no way you were going to be able to tell him that with a straight face.
"Honey?"
"Uh-huh..."
"What's going on with you?"
"Uh-huh..."
Jongho had it at that point. He stood right in front of you and snapped his fingers in front of your face, finally bringing you back to reality. Seeing him that close to you made your entire body jolt, and your fingers and toes tingled the closer he got to you. You were so ready to just fall over when he brought the back of his hand to your face.
"Oh God, your face is flushed, but you don't seem to have a fever... Maybe we should head back inside. I think the sun may be getting to you."
"It's not the sun getting to me, though," you whispered when Jongho grabbed your arm and turned around to drag you out of the pool.
He froze and he faced you once more. He walked forward quickly, making you scurry backwards until your back was pressing against the wall. Jongho pinned you in place, his chest extremely close to yours.
"What's going on, honey?" Jongho asked in a low voice.
You nearly shivered— Jongho sounded so hot whenever he dropped the octave of his voice. You were practically drowning in horny hormones at that point. Shifting uncomfortably, you whispered, "I... Uh..."
You felt your face get hotter as you thought about the things you wanted to ask him shamelessly.
I want you to fuck me senseless. I want you to use me and abuse me until I can't stand anymore. I want you to remind me who I belong to and make sure I never forget.
However, those crude words would never leave your mouth— at least not sober. Thankfully, Jongho seemed to finally catch onto what was going through your mind, a smirk, crossing his face. He closed the distance between you and actually pressed his chest against yours. He leaned into you, his lips near your ear.
"If you want that, you can just ask, honey."
"You know I can't shamelessly ask like that... I'm too shy..."
"Sure, that's why you were staring at me like a piece of meat or something. Don't think I didn't notice the way you were looking at me while I was swimming."
Jongho's hands moved down to your waist. He held you with a firm grasp as he nuzzled his face into the nook of your neck, his lips occasionally pressing against your flushed skin. You held onto his shoulders and let out soft sighs as you felt his kisses trail along the curve of your neck down to your shoulder.
"If you knew, then why didn't you say anything?" you whined slightly.
"I wanted to see you squirm, honey. It's not fun if I don't get to tease you."
Jongho's hands went from your waist to your ass, his fingers pressing into your skin and making your bottoms ride up a little as he pulled upwards. You let out pleasureful sigh after pleasureful sigh the more he peppered kisses all over your upper body and the more he felt you up. Your grip on his shoulders got weaker when you felt his waist press against yours, electricity running through your body when you felt his hard on prod through his swim shorts.
"Now, honey, do you want to tell me what you want me to do to you, or would you like me to order you around like the cum slut you are?" Jongho whispered gruffly into your ear once his lips made their way back up.
"The latter please."
Jongho pulled away from you, and you saw his eyes darken. His jaw momentarily tensed before he pressed his lips feverishly against yours, sweeping you away into a world of bliss. Your fingers ran through his hair as you moved your hands from his shoulders to the back of his neck. The two of you kept making impatient sighs and grunts in between each sloppy kiss, the water around you beginning to move a little more as you both got antsier. It was when Jongho's fingers pushed the waistband of your bottoms down did you break off the infinite chain kisses and look at him with helpless, half-lidded eyes.
"Get out of the pool now," Jongho ordered.
You did as he said as quickly as possible, the man following closely behind. You didn't know where to go, so you stopped and looked around, only for Jongho to grab your arm and lead you to the lounge chairs near the edge of the pool. He sat down first before pulling you towards him, making you straddle him. You held onto his shoulders and lowered your ass onto his knees as he held your neck and pulled you back in to shove his tongue down your throat.
Jongho's fingers pressed into your neck, making you slightly light-headed as he continued to kiss you so rashly that you had absolutely no time to breathe. You felt like you were going to pass out, but you knew that there was no way Jongho was going to take it so far.
At some point, Jongho did have to let go of your neck so that he could remove your bikini. He untied your top first, his fingers brushing the nape of your neck as he released the strings. Your top flopped forward as Jongho ran his finger down your spine, making you arch your back slightly. He made quick work of the remaining strings, the top completely falling with a slosh. He then ran his hands along the curve of your waist before pushing down the waistband of your bottoms once more. He was only able to move the wet fabric over your ass and tuck it under since you were still kneeling on either side of him.
"Take them off."
You nodded and stood up. Both your top and bottoms fell to the ground, Jongho quickly slipping his own swim shorts off in the process. Before you could go back to straddling the man, he leaned forward and grabbed both of your arms. Your back continued to face him as he pulled you backwards, your ass landing on his thick thighs as you sat down, your legs still firmly on the ground.
That's when you realized Jongho read your fucking mind earlier.
"Sit on my cock, honey," he told you as you felt his cock twitch and press against your back.
Jongho still had both of your arms behind your back, so while you moved up, Jongho held his thick cock in place. You felt the tip rub against your wet folds, and once he was right at your entrance, you sat down slowly. You felt your walls spread wide as you lowered yourself on him, a deep sigh escaping your lungs as you felt him fill you up.
"Mmm, fuck," Jongho groaned blissfully. "Now move for me, why don't you?"
With shaky legs, you managed to start moving on his cock. At first, you were worried about Jongho fucking you on the poolside out in the open where anyone could see; luckily for the two of you, there wasn't a single soul around, nor was there a camera in sight— plus, with the added protection of the umbrella above you, you had no reason to worry. That being said, you still tried to keep your erotic noises to a minimum while Jongho, on the other hand, didn't give a tiny rat's ass about how loud he was.
You seemed to be moving too slowly for him— you could only move so fast because every time you sat down on his lap, you wanted to remain seated because your legs could barely support you at that point. So, Jongho thrust his hips upwards suddenly, making you cry out.
"F-Fuck, Jongho!" you choked out as he continuously rammed his hips upwards into yours without mercy, your voice wavering when you felt him reach over your thigh and between your legs to brush his fingers against your sore clit. "Y-You're going so fast!"
"Don't you dare tell me to slow down," Jongho chuckled. "I thought you wanted this."
"I do! Fuck me harder, Jongho!"
Jongho released your arms from his grasp and pushed you up, making you whimper as his cock left your body. He quickly moved you so that you were kneeling on the lounge chair before shoving his cock quickly inside you once more. His waist slammed into yours hard, making you go from your hands to your elbows immediately.
Your sanity completely left you as Jongho quite literally fucked your brains out. You were moaning and crying loudly with every thrust while occasionally yelping whenever you felt the palm of his hand make intense contact with your ass.
"You like that, don't you?" Jongho teased you as he slapped your ass again.
You nodded and hummed in approval before you pressed your lips together and dropped your head down. However, Jongho didn't like that. He grabbed the back of your head and pulled, making you move your head up. He forced you to keep your head up as he continued to rut into you powerfully, the slaps of his waist against yours starting to get drowned out by the sound of blood rushing to your ears.
"J-Jongho!" you sobbed as you felt his cock brush against your G-spot so many times that you felt your orgasm building. "I'm c-close!"
Jongho immediately pulled out, two of his fingers going in their place. He fingered you quickly and roughly, the curve of his fingers inside you too much to handle. You cried out loudly as his fingers fucked you just right, making you cum hard. Your legs trembled, and your ass shook in the air as you squirt all over Jongho's hand, legs, and the lounge chair beneath you.
Without giving you a chance to properly recover, Jongho slid his cock back inside you, and he continued hammering away into your sensitive cunt. You could hear his own groans getting higher in pitch, and you could feel his pace begin to slow down but his power remained the same.
"You want me to fill you up, don't you?" Jongho grunted out. "You're just my little cum slut, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am, Jongho," you whined. "Cum inside me, please."
Jongho didn't need to be told twice. Grabbing your waist, he thrust into you several more times quickly before groaning loudly. You felt his cock twitch and throb inside you as his cum spurt out quickly, filling you with his white seed. When Jongho pulled his cock out, he spread your ass wide to watch his cum leak out and trail down your leg, making his shiver and slowly get hard again.
"Fuck, honey," Jongho chuckled. "Wear your suit, and let's get out of here. I'm not done fucking you just yet."
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azrakaban · 28 days
Text
A Little Longer - Mattheo Riddle X GN!Reader
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A/N: OH MY GOODNESS ME. Sorry I've taken such a long break from writing, if I told you all the things that have happened in the past two months you honestly wouldn't believe me LMAO
Warnings: cursing, yelling, soft Mattheo I think? lmk if i missed anything xxx 
Note! I tried to make this as gender neutral as possible, if I've messed up anywhere, please feel free to correct me! But please do it nicely guys <3
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The wind nipped at your face, chilly and biting as you wrapped your scarf tighter around your face. You forced your eyes to look into the swirling sky, where your poor boyfriend, Mattheo, sat frozen to his broom. 
Watching house Quidditch games was the highlight of every month for Hogwarts, but it made it supremely less enjoyable when the weather was unpleasant. And, as a particularly dark cloud decided to let fall a rainstorm, it became decidedly worse.
You craned your neck back to watch him above you, barely hearing whispers of what he was saying as he yelled instructions to his team members. 
Mattheo had been pushing the team hard all season - it being his first year as captain, he did not want to disappoint. You rememered the long suffering look Enzo gave you in the common room when Mattheo was dragging your friends out to train at 7am. 
As you watched, Astoria flew over your head, flanked by two Gryffindor chasers, who managed to throw her off, causing her to drop the Quaffle. She swore, sighing as they sped up towards the Slytherin goalpost before giving chase, but not quick enough to reclaim the Quaffle before another goal was put through the post, making the score 20 - 230 
You noticed Mattheo's expression darken further, and sighed. He would likely be in a bad mood later. 
Your eye was then caught by a sudden burst of movement on the other side of the pitch, where Potter and Draco were neck and neck in a dive for the Snitch. 
Draco raised his hand, victorious with the snitch clutched in his hand, yet the Gryffindor end exploded in cheers. With the score now at 170 - 230, Gryffindor had still won by a large margin. 
The Slytherins around you were all sighing and shaking their heads as they all made their  way out of the stadium. You had agreed to meet Mattheo at the Slytherin locker room, so you made your way there.
 As you approached the door though, you heard yelling. Pushing it slightly ajar, Blaise caught your eye and mimed cutting his head off quickly, clealy telling you to leave. You nodded, leaving swiftly and heading back to your empty dorm. 
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About 45 minutes later, Mattheo turned up in your dorm, hair slightly damp from the shower, and, spotting you, promptly came over and lay his head in your lap. 
"Heya bubs." You smiled slightly, looking down at him. "Hey." He mumbled dejectedly.
"We lost." He groaned, messing up his curls. You lifted a hand and started gently playing with them. "Yeah, this time. But there are still going to be other games, you don't lose everything from this game, okay?" You replied soothingly. 
"But it was our first game, my first game as captain, and I blew it. I pushed them too hard, and I blew it." He sighed. "I wanted to win this for them, to prove that I could do this, be responsible, make it work. And it just..." He lifted a hand and let it drop onto your sheets. "I failed them, and it's not even their fault. I yelled at Draco for catching the snitch, even though that was the best thing to do..." 
"You didn't fail your team." You interrupted him. "Sure, you lost a game, Mattheo, but all captains lose games! It's part of playing, you make mistakes, and you learn from them. PLus, you guys were playing into the wind, the Gryffindors had the weather behind them. Now, if you wanna say that the weather is your fault, you're gonna start sounding a little self centered..." You giggled slightly, and an amused huff escaped Mattheo. 
"Yeah yeah, okay, I get it." The pressure lifted off your thighs as Mattheo moved to sit back against your pillows, opening his arms for you. "C'mere sweetheart, wanna hold you, please." He asked, giving you puppy eyes. 
You immediately caved and moved forward towards him, letting him cuddle you like a teddy bear. 
"Thank you."  He sighed after a few moments of holding you, drawing patterns on your back with a fingertip. "What for, silly?" You looked at him, confused. He chuckled slightly. 
"Grounding me, not thinking I'm a dick, just being an all round awesome person to date?" He shrugged. "For letting me rant about this shit." He squeezed you slightly. 
"No worries, idiot." You smiled, kissing his cheek. He gasped in mock horror. 
"Idiot? That's what you call your suffering boyfriend? WOW, okay, WOW, I see how it is." Mattheo mock glared at you, gently shoving you away. 
"Aw come on, don't be like that." You laughed slightly as he pulled you back into his arms. 
"I should go apologise for being a Class A dick to the team shouldn't I?" He sighed, looking at you. 
"Yeah, probably." You nodded, squeezing his hand. Hd pulled you a little closer. 
"Not yet though. Wanna keep holding you just a little longer..." He muttered, pulling you back into the nest of pillows with him.
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A/N: Writing was shit, may delete later <3 Sorry for this miserable attempt at feeding u hungry people, love you all!
427 notes · View notes
azzo0 · 8 months
Text
She's the one.
Inspiration: this
Summary: You bring an umbrella and a warm drink to Bakugo while it's raining. And that's when he knows- you're the one for him.
Pairing: Bakugo x f!reader
not proofread <3
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Katsuki left school in a hurry while his friends were still packing their bags and taking their sweet time chatting with each other. His old hag had asked him to bring some groceries on the way home. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he sighed, checking the list of groceries his mother sent over text. He could get them from the grocery store near his house. 
He put his phone back in his pocket, walking down his usual route home, when he felt a drop of water fall on his nose. He wiped it, frowning when he felt more drops of water fall on his head. He looked up to see it had started raining. He didn't have an umbrella with him. 
"Fuck."
Meanwhile, back in class, you were helping Uraraka clean the classroom since it was your guys' turn today. You hummed to yourself, cleaning the chalkboard, the sounds of tapping on the window catching your attention. You opened the window, holding your hand out, feeling the cold drops of water fall on your palm.  
"It's raining, huh?" Uraraka said, adjusting the desks. 
"Yeah," your mind went back to your spiky-haired friend. You were aware he never had an umbrella in his locker. "Katsuki must be cold..."
"Aw, are you thinking about Bakugo?" Uraraka teased.
"Shush. I was just wondering if he has an umbrella." 
The brunette took the board eraser from your hand, giving you a smile. "You should go after him. I'll finish the rest."
"No, it's okay. Let's just finish-"
"Oh, hush, y/n. I said I'll take care of rest, right?" Uraraka handed you your bag. 
"Thank you, Ochaco." You grinned, running out of the classroom and down to the lockers. You took out your umbrella, opening it when you stepped outside the school building. It was pouring heavily now, accompanied by the cold wind. You shivered, pulling your blazer up to cover your nose. Katsuki must be soaking to the bone, you thought yourself.
And he was.
He muttered a string of curses, grimacing at the feeling of his shirt and blazer clinging to his skin. He hugged himself when the cold air hit his already wet body. This is why he hated rain. It did nothing but irritate him.
He stopped in his tracks when he heard someone call his name. He stood there, eyebrows knitted in concentration as he tried to listen through the pitter-patter of the rain. He glanced back to see a girl running towards him in the distance, calling his name. 
His chest warmed when he saw it was you. The girl he'd grown close to over the last few months. The girl who managed to drill her way into his head and make him feel butterflies just by her voice. The girl he wasn't sure he wanted to be 'just friends' with.
You stopped in front of him, almost slipping. You panted, grinning at him with your cheeks flushed from running. Bakugo gulped, his heart dancing. 
"You left without an umbrella." You said.
"So you came running here just to give me an umbrella?" Bakugo raised an eyebrow. He noticed you clutching two paper cups of something to your chest.
"Yeah, I knew you didn't have one." You said, holding out the umbrella for him to hold. Bakugo grumbled, taking the umbrella. You gave him one of the warm cups you were holding.
"What's that?"
"Hot chocolate," you replied. "I grabbed these on the way. Thought you were cold."
He took the drink from you, looking down at the cup in his hand, feeling his face heat up. "Thanks..." he mumbled.
"No problem!" You grinned. "I just came to give you these. I should get to the bus stop now."
"Wait a damn minute, you idiot." He held the cup and the umbrella in the same hand, grabbing your hand with the other before you turned to leave. "What about you?"
"What?"
"Yer going to get wet."
"Oh, don't worry. The bus stop's not too far from here."
"No. My place is just a minute away. You're coming with me. Don't want you blaming my ass when you get sick 'cause I took your umbrella."
"I-is that okay?"
"Of fucking course it is." He snorted.
"Alright then." You blushed as he held the umbrella in between you two so you were both shielded from the rain. 
Bakugo glanced at you walking beside him, bringing the opening in the lid to his mouth to sip on the warm and sweet liquid. He studied your side profile, the sleeping butterflies in his stomach waking up. Warmth took over Bakugo's previously cold body. You ran all the way in the rain just to give him a warm drink and an umbrella. How could he not fall for you?
She's the one, his heart murmured. Bakugo subtly smiled to himself, shifting closer to you to relish your warmth.
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solarmorrigan · 10 months
Text
“You know, you’d probably be more comfortable in bed.”
Steve groans. Quietly.
“I’m gonna take that noise to mean, ‘Yes, Eddie, you’re so right, I should take my sick ass to bed!’, to which I am going to say, ‘Thank you, Steve for acknowledging how right I am.’”
If Eddie’s plan is to irritate Steve until he manages to get up off the couch and shamble himself to their bedroom, he’s on the right track.
But the thing is, Eddie is right (unfortunately) – Steve knows he’d be more comfortable in bed. The couch is too short and the cushions are too worn and the seats are just a little too narrow for him to really relax. But at the same time, the flu is trying to murder him, and he’s got a fever, and everything aches, and he doesn’t want to move.
Rather than explaining any of this to Eddie through his sore throat, Steve instead grumbles, “Your impression of me sucks.”
“Well, I’ll work on that while you’re resting,” Eddie drawls.
Steve manages a faintly agreeable-sounding noise and then pulls a throw pillow over his face.
“Steve,” Eddie says.
Steve doesn’t move.
“Steve,” Eddie tries again.
Steve is still not compelled to move.
“Steeeve. Come on.” Eddie reaches out to poke Steve in the side, who belatedly raises a hand to swat him away.
“Don’t wanna move,” Steve mumbles.
“You’re never allowed to call me dramatic again,” Eddie says.
“Mph,” Steve replies.
He hates being sick – really sick, the kind that his body just won’t tolerate pushing through. If he can’t pretend to be well, he feels he has no other recourse but to be dramatic.
“Do you want me to carry you?” Eddie offers. He sounds like he’s trying not to laugh.
Steve snorts. “Yeah, sure.”
“Alright, let’s go,” Eddie declares, and Steve has just enough time to pull the pillow off his face and look up before Eddie is scooping him up off the couch.
“What the fuck!” Steve shouts, arms locking almost instinctively around Eddie’s neck as Eddie gets one arm settled beneath the crook of his knees and the other around his back.
“Relax, we’ll have you in bed in no time,” Eddie says, swinging around to face the living room door with a grunt and trundling forward.
“You’re gonna drop me,” Steve says, winding his arms more tightly around Eddie’s neck; he’s pretty sure no one has picked him up or carried him anywhere since he was maybe eight years old.
“Ye of little faith,” Eddie replies, only slightly strained.
“Me of exactly the right amount of faith, which isn’t a whole damn lot, no,” Steve insists, ducking forward when Eddie lists a little too close to one of the hallway walls.
“You’ll be fine,” Eddie says. “I’m not gonna drop you.”
They reach the bedroom door and, as he’d promised, Eddie doesn’t drop Steve.
He does, however, whack Steve’s head on the doorjamb.
And then he drops Steve.
It doesn’t end up being much of a fall; Eddie only loses his hold on Steve’s legs, and with Steve’s death grip around Eddie’s neck, he mostly just lands awkwardly on his feet before tumbling down onto his ass with a thud and a quiet, “Ow.”
Eddie is on his knees beside him in an instant. “Holy shit, I hit your head.”
“Yeah, thanks for that. My head was the one part of me that didn’t hurt,” Steve grumbles, rubbing behind his ear, where his skull had connected with the doorframe.
“Oh my god, I hit your head,” Eddie says again.
Steve blinks at him. “Yeah, we established that. Did you hit your head, too, or–”
“Shit, shit, are you dizzy? Is your vision blurry? Wait, fuck, you’re not wearing your contacts – are things blurrier than normal?” Eddie places his hands on either side of Steve’s face and stares into his eyes, as if he’ll be able to tell that way if Steve’s brain has finally been knocked loose. “Do you feel anything, like, swelling? Bleeding? Leaking?”
“I’m pretty sure you can’t feel that sort of thing happening,” Steve says, and Eddie’s face crumples.
“Shit, you’re right, I should take you to the doctor,” Eddie declares, moving to stand up.
Steve grabs him by the arm and pulls him back down. “Eddie, I’m fine.”
“No, your brain could be leaking or some shit, and you’re gonna have, like, an aneurism, and you’re gonna die, and it’s going to be all my fault because I hit your head and I killed you,” Eddie rambles, shaking his own head.
Steve isn’t sure if any of that is even correct, but he’s willing to bet Robin has been sharing her worries about Steve’s head trauma with Eddie. “That’s not–”
“Your head is the one part of you we really can’t afford to hit!”
“As opposed to the rest of me?” Steve asks, one eyebrow raised.
“If it comes down to it, yeah!” Eddie bursts out. “Do you even know how many times you’ve hit your head?”
“Are you asking because you don’t know, or because you’re afraid I don’t remember?” Steve asks drily. “Because you weren’t even there for most of those times, man.”
“It’s not funny,” Eddie says, and he’s definitely trying to sound stern, but he’s verging a little bit on whiny; he seems like he’s starting to calm down, since Steve has so far failed to collapse and die.
“Okay, then, seriously, Eddie – I’m fine,” Steve promises. “You didn’t even hit me that hard, it barely hurts.”
“Steve, I love you, but you have a severely skewed sense of pain and should not be trusted to rate it on your own,” Eddie says.
Steve rolls his eyes. “Fine. Here,” he grabs one of Eddie’s hands and pulls it around to where his head had hit the jamb, “feel. Are there any bumps? Cuts? Anything seem out of place?”
With a frown of deep concentration, Eddie runs his fingers gently from the top of Steve’s skull to the base, occasionally pressing a little harder, but never hard enough to hurt.
“Good?” Steve asks, once Eddie’s had a minute to feel for himself.
Eddie’s shoulders slump. “I guess.”
“Ah, don’t be disappointed. Maybe it’ll be a concussion next time,” Steve offers.
Eddie shoots him a wildly unimpressed glare. “That’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny,” Steve decides, but he takes Eddie’s hand from his head and brings it around to press a kiss to the back of it.
There’s definitely a smile ticking at the corners of Eddie’s mouth, but Steve doesn’t point it out.
“Do you want some ice, or something?” Eddie asks, and Steve shakes his head.
“What I want is to walk over to the bed and lie down, and I want you to come with me,” Steve says. “And in an hour, I want you to bring me more Tylenol and some of that really good tea that Joyce sent over. Deal?”
This time, Eddie does smile. “I think I can handle that.”
Steve smiles back. “Good.”
They get themselves situated, Eddie at Steve’s back with an arm slung over him, a single blanket pulled up to their waists (“Pretty sure you still have a fever, sweetheart,” Eddie had insisted. “You’re gonna cook yourself to death if you cover up.”), and in the dim, sleepy light filtering through their curtains, Steve presses back further into Eddie’s chest.
“I like that you care so much,” he says quietly, and Eddie squeezes him a little more tightly.
He shifts enough that he can press his lips to the spot where Steve had bumped his head. “Always will,” he murmurs, and hell if Steve doesn’t believe him.
[Prompt: Bridal carries]
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miniimight · 10 months
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Hiiii idk if you’re doing requests rn but I just ADORE how you write Izuku and katsuki like omg-
Anyways- my meds are causing me some crazy nightmares lately and I was wondering how they would handle you waking up from a nightmare???
If you don’t take requests then forget this ever happened :’)
Have a nice day byeeeeee!!!
NIGHTMARES you wake up in a start and wake them up in the process
with izuku & katsuki
notes guys i know ive been away for way too long im so sorry!!! :( i'm in the process of moving so it's stressful T-T thanks for the request, anon, hope those nightmares got/get better :( <3
it was so vivid. your mind sunk into an alternate reality that captured all your senses. you felt yourself spiraling deeper and deeper, faster and faster—
your body jolted upright with a breathless yell and a sharp gasp, the world stilling for a mere second...
and then you leaned over your knees, your lungs racing to catch up with your need for oxygen. your chest felt tight and you squeezed your eyes, remembering that your boyfriend was laying peacefully beside you.
you peeked to your side and found him staring right back—wide, bright eyes piercing into your own—sending a shock through your body.
IZUKU
"god, izuku, you scared me—" you sighed, your hand pressing on your stomach as if that would make the uneasy feeling disappear.
"i scared you?" he sat up further, scooching closer to your side. "you scared me, angel. are you okay? you're out of breath, honey. let's do it together, okay?"
you whimpered softly as you tried to follow his guide. izuku could tell you were in distress and it took everything to stop himself from overwhelming you with questions. he just laced his fingers with yours and squeezed.
"good job, honey." izuku praised you ever-so-softly, rubbing your back soothingly. "feeling a bit better?"
you nodded, frowning. "m'sorry for waking you—"
"angel." he whined, letting his eyes do all the talking. "don't do that! please, don't do that." he actually sounded offended.
you looked away from him, your throat hurting from holding back tears. "it's been happening all the time, though, and you need your rest. maybe i should take the guest room?" you were more talking to yourself than anything, but izuku refused to let you entertain such an idea.
izuku's shoulders slumped, the shock fading as drowsiness began to overtake him. he smiled lazily, fighting a yawn. "y/n, even if i knew you would wake me up every night for the rest of time, i'd still choose to be here beside you."
you turned to face him, the horror of your nightmare slowly fading to the back of your mind. "really?"
"really." he confirmed.
you smiled, letting your head rest on your knees as you stared at him lovingly.
the rustle of sheets and whistle of wind reminded the both of you that it was indeed the middle of the night. izuku tugged you closer by your waist, pulling you back onto the bed. he groaned softly, stretching a little before he relaxed against you. "did you wanna talk about it?"
you pursed your lips. curling into his embrace, you immediately felt warmer. "...not right now."
he kissed your forehead. "don't worry, i'll always be right here to protect you from anything your head throws at you. you just tell me and let me at 'em." he kissed you again before wrapping both arms around you.
his steady breathing and soft snores brought a fond smile to your face. you found yourself falling asleep despite the night's events.
KATSUKI
you both stared at each other for a good few seconds before you spoke up.
"sorry for waking you," you mumbled, still having trouble managing your breathing. you turned away from him, pressing your palms into your eyes.
"no," he whispered with a softness reserved for you only. "you didn't wake me."
you stared at him through the darkness and could see him so clearly. "katsuki—"
"shh, it's okay, baby." he gave you a soft smile, once again reassuring you. "come 'ere."
you sniffed as you inched closer. katsuki gently took your arm and pulled you the rest of the way right into his arms. his hand fell to your waist, tracing little shapes and lines as he allowed you time.
"wanna talk about it?" he asked.
you shook your head.
"okay." he squeezed your shoulder, kissing your cheek. he figured you'd tell him when you were ready—the last thing he wanted to do was stress you out even more. it was hard, not to get all the answers on what was bothering was you... it was in his nature to want to make all your problems go away. "what do you need?"
you hand wound around his torso, hugging him back. "um..." you shuddered as you breathed in. "just you."
he smiled against your skin. "yeah? promise you're not holding back on me?"
you giggled. "yes."
"cuz you know i'd do literally anything—"
you sat up slightly, turning to face him with a swat to his chest. your face burned and it was a struggle to recall the images of your nightmare. "katsuki! oh my god."
"what?" he scrunched his nose. his eyes never left you. "it's true."
you returned to your spot between his arm. "just you."
"whatever you say." he pressed his lips to your temple before he got comfy. he sighed. "goodnight, pretty. wake me when those stupid nightmares bug you again, okay?"
your heart fluttered and your smile grew out of your control. "okay."
© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3
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kyra-cooneyx · 1 month
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fall into you - o.batlle x reader
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summary: ona looks after you after you sustain a knee injury
injuries in football were unfortunately common. what was even more unfortunate was the growing number of acl related injuries in the women’s sport.
much like your teammates, you lived in a bubble of believing that it would never ever happen to you. you were careful, extremely careful. almost too careful.
the world cup was just around the corner and after watching leah go down a few weeks earlier, you had a niggly feeling everytime you stepped onto grass.
and that feeling never disappeared, not even when you stepped onto the pitch ready for the manchester derby.
you got into your position in the midfield, pushing the images of leah on the floor to the back of your mind, forcing your eyes away from the exact spot where she went down.
and you were successful in forgetting about it for the first fifteen minutes of the game. until the world came crumbling down around you after you motioned for tooney to pass the ball to you.
she did and as you kicked your leg out, the toe of your boot hit the ground and there was an instantaneous burst of pain in your knee. the wind felt like it had been knocked out of your chest at the popping feeling that so many female athletes had described.
ona heard your cry of pain from the other end of the pitch and she watched in horror as you collapsed to the ground, clutching your knee. alessia and tooney ran over to you before she could, both of them motioning rapidly for the medical team.
you sobbed into the grass, feeling like an entire lifetime had passed before someone else dropped to their knees beside you. ona gently placed her hand on your back, leaning to whisper soft assurances into your ear until you were being lifted into a standing position.
you limped lamely off the pitch, tears still falling down your face as you disappeared into the stadium.
it was clear to the commentators and the fans that what had happened had shook the entire team so when the half time whistle blew, marc didn’t lay into them like he usually would. and even though ona could see your bags still tucked neatly into your cubby, she still checked her phone in hopes that there would be some sort of update on you.
however there was nothing, her shoulders sunk before she felt a hand on her arm. ona looked up to see tooney’s face, a grimace of sorts painted on it.
“no news is good news,” the mancunian said quietly. “and if we still haven’t heard anything but the end of the match, i’ll drive you to the hospital myself.”
ona nodded, forcing a small smile onto her face. her mind was racing. ona knew how much you hated being injured and how you hated being in the hospital even more. and the thought of you sitting alone, getting what could potentially be the worst news of your life broke ona’s heart.
so when the second half ended after what felt like an eternity to the spaniard and the final whistle blew, ona didn’t care that manchester was blue or that leila was trying to talk to her.
instead she rushed around the manchester united staff in a desperate attempt to gain all—if any— of the information she could about your condition. but there was nothing.
alessia and tooney were hurrying ona into the back then, all three having short showers before climbing into tooney’s car.
and for you it had felt like an entire lifetime had passed before the nurse came into your room to inform that someone was there to collect you. your shoulders sagged a little as you spotted alessia and no ona but you managed to give her a little smile, thanking her for coming as you balanced on your crutches.
“ona’s in the car with tooney,” she told you as you slowly made your way out of the hospital. “she wanted to come in but she’s freaking out so we thought it would be best if me or tooney came in.”
you nodded, no longer trusting your voice. the silence was so unbearable for you that seeing tooney actually made you brighten up the tiniest bit.
ona frowned upon seeing you hobbling on the crutches. her eyes scanned your face, seeing no noticeable tear tracks or other signs that you’d been crying. had she looked at alessia, ona would’ve noticed the pained expression on the blonde’s face.
but ona wasn’t focused on alessia. the spaniard was walking towards you before she realised it, stopping in front of you momentarily before giving you the gentlest hug you’d ever received.
ona then helped you into the back of the car and the journey to your apartment was silent. the spaniard thanked them both before guiding you into the building. you sank into the couch at the first possible moment as ona flittered about the kitchen, throwing a quick snack together for you.
when she entered the living room, she noticed the way your body was hunched over and shaking, then she realised that you were crying.
ona rushed over, placing the plate onto the coffee table before pulling you into her arms, rubbing your back soothingly as you sobbed into her t-shirt.
“it is okay amor,” ona whispered. “we will get through this together.”
“it’s my acl,” you told her, reaching up to wipe your eyes. “i could be out for a year, maybe more. and i’m missing the world cup. none of this is okay.”
ona frowned at how empty your voice sounded, completely void of emotion despite the fact that you had been crying mere seconds before. “when is your surgery?”
“in a few weeks,” you told her quietly. “i need to do some physio to strengthen the muscles before they can do anything.”
“lo siento mi amor,” ona whispered, pressing a kiss to your head. “i am here for you okay? every step of the way.”
you nodded, pulling away from her and reaching for your crutches, limping away from ona and into your bedroom.
she waited for five minutes before picking the plate back up and following you. she found you curled up under the sheets, staring into space.
ona couldn’t decide whether the silence was comforting or deafening but she had a feeling that it was something she’d have to get used to.
-
shutting people out wasn’t new to you. it was something you’d done from childhood, hiding your emotions as to not be a burden to those around you.
but it was something you were trying to get better at.
so after your surgery, you let ona in. you let yourself feel. it wasn’t easy and at first you struggled but once you realised that ona didn’t care and that she wanted you to be vulnerable, it almost became like a second nature to you.
but you still struggled to open up to your teammates.
tooney and alessia invited you out after a few weeks and when they asked how you were doing and if you were coping, you told them that you were and quickly shut down the conversation.
and when you received an invite to your first team bonding session since your injury, you slapped a smile onto your face and again, quickly shut down any conversation that ventured towards your knee.
luckily ona did the same whenever she was around, seeing just how uncomfortable the questions were making you.
and it was on a rare sunny afternoon in manchester when ona was gently applying sun cream to your scars that you burst into tears.
ona’s head snapped up and she reached up to wrap her arms around you, apologising profusely as she assumed that she’d hurt you somehow.
but then you shook your head, leaving the spaniard feeling confused.
“these are happy tears,” you told her, leaning in to kiss her quickly. “i just love you so much and i don’t know what i did to deserve you sometimes. i’ve never thanked you for anything you’ve done and i should, i should be thanking you for the rest of our lives. you could’ve left at any point but you didn’t, you stayed even when i screamed and shouted. and i just—thank you. te amo. te amo mucho.”
“it is my job to look after you, no?” ona asked, a slight teasing tone to her voice.
“you’ve done more than that. oni you made what should’ve been an incredibly hard time in my life so bloody easy and you did it without a single complaint. i know i wasn’t easy to deal with at first and i’m sorry for being so mean. you’ve been right by my side, helped me mentally and physically, i owe you more than a few lousy words.”
whilst it might not have been a big deal to ona, it was a huge one to you. she would drive you everywhere, drop whatever she was doing to help you with whatever it was you were doing and for the few days where you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed, ona did everything. and you knew that no words would ever do it all justice.
“i told you that we would get through it together and i meant it.” ona said and you smiled brightly.
“i love you,” you whispered. “maybe we can cook together later or something, do something nice whilst the weather is nice.”
“shouldn’t we do something outside if the weather is nice?”
“i suppose so,” you playfully rolled your eyes. “maybe we could get some of the girls together, go do some crazy golf.”
“sounds good,” ona replied, kissing your nose before you scrunched it up. “i’ll call tooney.”
“can i be on your team?” you asked quickly.
“of course you can.”
you watched ona walk off with a smile, knowing that no matter what you’d always be on the same team.
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caelesjjk · 11 months
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simply meant to be | jjk
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☾ Title: Simply Meant to Be ☾ Pairing: pumpkin king!jungkook x fem reader ☾ Genre/AU: nightmare before Christmas au, romance, horror, smut ☾ Rating: m (18+) ☾ WC: 4.6K ☾ Warnings: this is not your average nightmare before christmas, its pretty dark and unhinged. jungkook is jack skellington. reader is somewhat of a sally character. jungkook calls you immortelle (it means everlasting), jungkook has face tattoos (you'll see), monsters, fear, seokjin appearing as Dr. Finkelstein hehe, electrocution therapy, being held against will, jungkook unalives someone, a game of cat and mouse, mentions of blood, smut in the forms of: kissing, grinding, fingering, unprotected sex, knife play, blood play, creampie ☾ Summary: you aren’t sure how any of it can be real. This place…these creatures…this man. You wake up next to a man you’ve never seen before with no memory of who he is or where you are. But everyone in town seems to know you. You belong to the Pumpkin King. Scared and utterly terrified you run into someone who claims they can help you remember. And now you’re starting to wonder if that’s truly what you want. ☾ Authors Note: hello darklings! Please enjoy my trick for the Fantasy and Fangs halloween collab! this fic became so much more unhinged than i originally planned lol. it may not be for everyone! just e sure to check my warnings before you proceed with the fic. this is heavily unedited.
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Your body jolts upright, lungs immediately gasping for breath.
Panic surges through every nerve as you frantically look around at your surroundings and grasping at the thin sheet you find bunched around your hips. 
You’re naked. God why are you naked? How did you get here? Where the fuck are you?
Your heart pounds in your chest as you look next to you in bed and see that someone is lying next to you. A broad back and muscular arms covered in tattoos leading up to a head of messy black hair that covers the persons face lies snoring quietly against the sheets.
“Shit.” You mumble, wrapping the thin sheet around your body as you scramble out of the bed. The man lying in the bed stirs slightly and reaches into the space where your body once was. 
You don’t wait to see anything else, dashing for the bedroom door and stumbling into the very dark hallway. The only light comes from the cobweb covered candle sconces that line the black painted walls. 
You adjust the sheet around you the best you can before taking off running down the hallway. There is an immediate feeling that you’re being watched and you make the mistake of turning around to look behind you. 
The dark shadowy silhouette of a man stands where you had just been a moment ago. You beg your feet to move faster.
Before you reach the top of the stairs, you glance back over your shoulder once more to see what you can only describe as a jack o lantern grin light up and stretch across the face of the man taking his time moving towards to you down the hallway.
“Where are you going, immortelle?”
A voice comes into your mind and almost causes you to fall face first down the winding spiral staircase in front of you.
“Please leave me alone.” You beg as you rush down the stairs. You don’t make it far before you suddenly feel hands gripping at your ankles. Hands with claws….some covered with slime…reaching from under the stairs and tearing at the sheet keeping your naked body from being exposed.
You scream until your throat hurts. Kicking at the hands as you continue to fight your way down the stairs.
“You know how much I love chasing you, baby.”
Somehow you manage to make it to the bottom of the stairs, but you almost wish that you hadn’t when you fall against the front door and throw it open.
You must be hallucinating with fear.
Outside the sky is black and grey swirls of clouds in constant motion, you know if you stared too long you’d become dizzy. Instead, your eyes wonder around to the bare trees surrounding the house you just made your way out of. Just a few leaves hang on for dear life as the wind quite literally howls through the air.
Down the crooked stone steps in front of you is a huge iron gate with two giant pumpkin designs bent into the bars. Gargoyles sit atop every stone post surrounding the house. 
Wasting no more time, you descend the stairs until you’ve reached the iron gate, shaking the bars when it doesn’t budge.
“Please open. Please.” You shove with your shoulder as hard as you can and the gate loudly creaks open just enough for you to squeeze out into the open street. 
You turn around and shove the gate back shut, looking up at the top of the stairs where the man who had been chasing you through the house now stands with a smile on his half tattooed face and his arms crossed over his bulky bare chest.
You can see even from here that the tattoos on the left side of his face are skull like features. It’s absolutely terrifying.
He lifts a hand in a wave as he menacingly tilts his head to the side and smiles.
Fuck this.
You wrap the blanket tighter around you and take off down the street without a single clue as to where you are. Anywhere has to be better than where you just were.
You spoke too soon again.
The sight in front of you as you round the corner is just as terrifying as that house and that man.
There are monsters, literal monsters, standing in the streets. Selling items at market booths. Chasing their children on the sidewalks. Laughter…and screams. It’s a terrible mix of sounds.
You freeze as a bouncy ball belonging to what you can only assume is a swamp monster child rolls against your feet.
“Happy first day after Halloween Ms Y/N!” The little creature says, staring at you expectantly.
Your instincts tell you not to scream. If you scream it will only make things worse.
“You know my name?” Your voice shakes and so do your hands as you continue holding the blanket around your body.
“Are you alright, miss?” The child’s mother appears behind him, looking at you with concern.
“I um…I should go.” Your bare feet move to cross the street, making you pause when you step in something wet. You know that it’s blood before you even look down. Vomit threatens to fill your mouth but you continue walking away, dragging the train of the sheet you’re wearing through more of the bloody streets.
More monsters stare at you as you go. Some with long sharp teeth and claws that could easily slice through a normal humans delicate skin. Some walked on two feet and some slithered across the ground like sickly serpents. 
“Are you lost?” A horrifying witch grabbed your arm and tried to pull you back into the street.
“No, no I’m just on my way somewhere.” You lie the best you can, yanking your arm away only to immediately see deeps scratches from her long nails.
“So sorry miss.” She cackles, moving to join two other witches who were waiting for her on the other side of the street. They all continued their uneasy laughing until you turned the corner up ahead.
As you turned the corner you ran hard into something. Or someone it would appear when you looked up.
“What are you doing out here in nothing but a blanket, Y/N?” The man asks, pushing a pair of glasses up onto his nose.
This man had stitches across his forehead and down around his neck. Like some kind of Frankenstein’s monster, he’s been sewn together.
“Do I know you? Why does everyone here know my name?” You step back to put space between you and the monster.
“Ah, I see. Come with me.” He turns and begins walking but stops when you don’t follow. “I can help you. Come.” He holds out a hand, and while you don’t know what the fuck is happening, something tells you it’s okay to trust this stranger. 
You take his hand.
“Who are you?” You finally ask.
“I’m a friend. Dr. Kim Seokjin.” He swings your hands between you in a silly way. “You usually call me Jin. Sometimes Jinnie.”
“Jin.” You repeat, the name feeling familiar on your tongue. “Where are we going?”
“To my lab. I have things that can help you there.” Jin turns another corner and up ahead you can see a tall crooked tower looming in the distance.
“Your lab is in there?” 
“It is. Don’t worry Y/N, I promise you’re safe with me.”
You swallow hard but continue to let Jin lead you inside the tower and up, up, up the long spiraling stairs until you reach a door that he slides open.
Inside is a room filled with equipment and various experiments. Glass beakers filled with colorful liquid bubble and burble over small open flames. Sparks fly from wires that connect to different machines and some that connect to nothing at all. There are also several control panels at the center of the room with gurneys situated next to them.
“What kind of doctor are you, Jin?” Your voice shakes a little.
“The helpful kind.” He answers with a menacing grin on his face and a flicker of something slightly insane in his eyes.
“Wh-what do you have here that can help me?” You look down at the dirty blanket still wrapped around your body.
“First,” he grabs your hand again and leads you to a side room that has a cot with some folded clothes lying on top of it, “you can use those clothes to change into, okay? Whatever you want.” 
“Thank you.” You step into the small room and turn to face him. “Is something really wrong with me? Something that makes me not remember?”
“Everything is fixable. I’ll have you as good as new in no time.” Jin winks and closes the door behind him so that you can change in private.
You dress in a daze, still feeling very off kilter from everything that’s unfolded from the moment you opened your eyes. Flashes of the man you woke up next too and his terrifying tattooed face race across your memory and leave chills over your skin.
“Ready now?” Jin calls from outside the door. You take a deep breath and walk back out into the laboratory. “Why don’t you take a seat on one of those?” He motions to the gurneys at the center of the room.
Reluctantly, you walk over to them and sit on the thin mattress. It crumples under your weight and immediately sends a sense of dread swimming into your veins.
“How can you fix me?” You barely get the sentence out before Jin is next to you, situating your arms at your sides and wrapping leather straps around your wrists. “What are you doing?” Panic thick in your voice.
“This is how we fix you. Bite this.” He puts a leather strap up to your mouth.
“Are you crazy?! I’m not doing this. Let me go!” You pull against the restraints, thrashing your head and body in an attempt to get the fuck away.
“I know it’s a little frightening. You do this every time. One of your only flaws.” Jin shakes his head, sounding disappointing.
“Flaws? What are you talking about!?” 
“You’re my creation. I made you.” He tilts his head and smiles, “and you’re absolutely perfect except for that mind of yours. It resets. Forgets.” He shrugs his shoulders.
“Creation?! I’m a human being! I’m not some experiment! What is wrong with you?” Hot tears starts to leak from the corners of your eyes and blur your vision.
“You’re so adorable sometimes.” Jin yanks on your restraints to tighten them, “sit still, Y/N.” 
“You’re hurting me.” You whimper.
“You think that hurts?” Jin smiles before he begins sticking sticky pads to your head and neck. “Just wait.” He whispers into your ear.
You’re such an idiot to have trusted this monster. You were so sure that he was good. A friend. He felt like a friend when you saw him. Familiar.
“Please…don’t.” You beg just before he forcefully shoves the piece of leather between your teeth.
“You’ll thank me soon.”
Terror freezes your body as you watch him slam down a lever on one of the control tables, green electric waves traveling down the wires and entering your body in trembling shocks.
You don’t know how long you lay there, screaming through the pain before you pass out from how much electricity Jin lets pass into your body. But eventually the room goes black and the last thing you hear is Jin manically laughing from across the room.
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“It’s getting worse.”
“I tweaked some things this time. I’m hopeful it lasts longer.”
“It better. I’m tired of losing her.”
You hear quiet voices as you begin to come to. Voices that you recognize almost immediately.
“Jungkook?” Your voice croaks. Almost immediately the door to the small room slides open and the silhouette of the only person you want to see fills the doorway.
“You’re okay, immortelle?” Jungkook rushes into the room and kneels next to the cot you’re laying on.
“What happened to me? Why am I in Jinnie’s lab?” You turn your head to face him when he cups your cheeks in his hands.
“You had another episode, my sweet.” He brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles one by one.
“Episode?” Your brows draw together in confusion.
“You forgot who you were. That you belong to me. You forgot it all.” Jungkook looks sad while he explains and it breaks your heart.
“How could I forget you?” You sit up slowly and he helps you. “How could I forget my love?”
“It’s not your fault, immortelle. Don’t blame yourself.” Jungkook looks over his shoulder at Jin who stands in the doorway. Jin rolls his eyes before walking away.  
“Take me home?” You ask, wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s neck when he picks you up into his arms bridal style.
“Of course.” 
Jungkook carries you down the long winding staircase of the laboratory and outside where it’s pitch black besides the white melting candles inside the lamp posts along the street.
A smile pulls across your face when you see all the monsters that you love busy in the streets. They all smile back at you, tossing greetings and wishes of quick recoveries your way.
“They love you.” Jungkook whispers into your ear.
“No. They love you, you’re their pumpkin king. I’m just lucky enough to be yours.” You touch the skull details tattooed on the side of his face so he looks at you.
“You’ll be their queen soon.” He reminds you. You lean up to kiss his lips.
“Let’s get something to eat before we go home. I’m famished.” Jungkook sits you on your feet but keeps your hand in his.
Jungkook talks with some of the shop owners and you watch as he gathers all of your favorite things into a basket. Wines, cheeses, and some sweet treats leftover from the night before. You love him so.
You make your way over to a stand selling haunted dolls and look around at all the choices. You’re about to go back to find Jungkook when someone grabs your arm and twists you around.
“You’re so pretty.” The drunken vampire says, the smell of blood thick on his breath. He’s had too much.
“I appreciate your compliment, but I need you to let go of my arm.” You pull away but he doesn’t let go.
“Don’t be that way. Come with me.” He stumbles and almost falls on top of you.
“Get off of me!” You say louder but the vampire doesn’t listen, it’s nails scratching through your skin. You’re about to scream for Jungkook when he’s suddenly there, ripping the vampires hand from your arm.
“May I ask what you think you’re doing? Touching what’s mine?” Jungkook says too calmly.
“I…I didn’t recognize Ms. Y/N…I didn’t realize.” The vampire stumbles over his words.
“Is that your excuse?” Jungkook laughs, the terrifying cackling sound sending tingles through your body.
You know what’s going to happen next, and the thrill alone has you aching between your legs.
“I’m sorry, I’ll never make the mistake again.” The vampire takes a few steps back.
“Immortelle?” Jungkook looks over his shoulder to you. He’s asking a silent question that you already know the answer to. You nod yes as a smile spreads across your face.
“Remember in your next life my friend, to keep your filthy hands off my girl.” Before you can blink his hand is shooting out between them and into the vampires chest cavity. He holds it there a moment so that he can watch the life drain slowly drain from the vampire before he yanks his hand back out holding the still thumping heart in his hand.
The vampire falls to the ground in a lifeless heep, his eyes still open and eternally full of the fear he last experienced. The crowd around the market doesn’t take offense, they know if their pumpkin kills someone it was for a damn good reason.
Jungkook turns towards you, handing the heart to one of the children playing with the body on the ground. He pats their head and then slowly brings his hand up to his mouth, licking a thick stripe from the bloody palm of his hand to the tip of his middle finger, all while keeping eye contact with you.
You smile, closing the space between the two of you and claiming his mouth. Your tongue seeks out the blood that’s dropped down his chin and around his lips.
“It never gets old…watching you kill for me.” You breathe into his mouth while his blood hands lace into the strands of your hair.
“We need to get home before I show everyone here how well I fuck you.” His mouth leaves hot kisses against your neck as he leads you backwards down the street until your back hits the iron bars of a familiar gate.
Home.
The gate loudly creaks open as soon as it realizes the two of you have arrived. Jungkook stops kissing you to take your hand and walks with you up the stone stairs to the front door that also opens all on its own, the door knocker welcoming you home.
“Do you want to play?” You whisper, making Jungkook pause at the bottom of the stairs. Those tattooed details raising into a smile.
“Okay, immortelle. Let’s play.” He kisses the top of your hand before taking a step back. He slowly slips of his black and white striped suit jacket and unbuttons his shirt before it joins the jacket on the floor.
You soak in the tattooed planes of his body, the muscles begging to be touched. His dark falling over his forehead as he steps back farther into the shadows until he’s completely disappeared from your sight.
“You know what happens if I catch you, immortelle.” His voice floats into your ear from somewhere unknown. “Don’t let me catch you.” 
A thrill shoots through your body again and you sprint for the stairs, loving the way the monsters and ghouls grab at your ankles and whisper your name. You immediately turn left at the top of the stairs, your mind going a million miles an hour trying to think of where you could hide.
He knows all of the good places for hiding.
In a last ditch idea, you run into your shared bedroom upon hearing Jungkook’s footsteps running up the stairs. He took this game of chase so seriously and never took it slowly.
You slide under the bed, your chest heaving in fear but also excitement. You’re hoping by hiding somewhere obvious that he won’t even think to look here and waste his time checking all of the usual spots you tend to hide.
“Where are you, immortelle?” You hear his menacing voice out in the hallway coming closer. You almost giggle. “You know I’ll find you. I will always find you.”
You hear his footsteps stop outside the bedroom door and then the door slowly opens right after, lightly hitting against the wall behind it. 
Jungkook’s heavy footsteps make the floorboards creak as he walks into the room. You throw a hand over your mouth to keep from making any noises. Jungkook undoes the buckle of his belt and a moment later slips it from his belt loops and lets it clang against the hardwood floor.
“Are you soaked for me right now, my love?” You watch with wide eyes as Jungkook slowly walks around the bed. “I’ll find out soon enough.”
He doesn’t say anything else and when you look around at the floor you notice that he’s no longer next to the bed, his black boots no longer anywhere in sight. You release a long breath of relief.
And then you’re being yanked by the ankle from beneath the bed, a startled scream escaping you as you flip onto your back just in time to see Jungkook trap you with his body against the floor.
“You caught me.” You smile, lifting your hips up to meet his, desperate for friction against your core.
“Don’t I always?” His mouth is on yours, his hands pushing your dress up around your hips.
He was desperate for you too.
“I love you.” You whisper on his lips, the tattooed skeleton grin on his beautiful face turning upwards.
Jungkook sits up on his knees between your legs giving you a full view of his naked torso. Pretty muscles and flawless skin that you ached to leave your mark on. Scratches and bite marks and bruises were the only things that could make him more perfect.
Your chest heaves as you watch him reach behind his back in the band of his black dress pants to retrieve a silver shiny knife. Your pulse quickens immediately.
“Is this what you want, immortelle?” He presses the cold steel flat against the inside of your thigh, keeping the blade from cutting you just yet.
“Will you torture me?” You ask, your hands coming up to cup your breasts with anticipation.
“Absolutely.” Jungkook moves the knife farther up your skin until the point brushes over underwear. You moan pathetically at the feel of it brushing over your center and slowly sliding over onto your other thigh.
“Jungkook…” you sigh.
“Be patient. I’ll give you what you want.” Jungkook uses his other hand to undo the button and zipper of his pants, pushing them down until his perfect cock springs free from the confines.
You bite your lip at the sight in front of you. Jungkook slowly strokes himself to the sight of the knife moving across your skin. He draws the sharp side of the blade oh so gently across your stomach, so sharp you don’t even feel it draw blood. The view of you on display for him makes him groan and move his hand a bit rougher up and down his shaft. 
Your fingers move on their own accord, slipping through the small pool of blood on your stomach and moving them back over your breasts to smear the crimson liquid in a trail.
“Fuck. Fuck you’re so perfect.” Jungkook moves the knife to your throat, gently leaving one long cut from one side to the other. You immediately feel warm blood leave the wound and drip down the sides of your neck.
Jungkook drops the knife to the floor and bends over your body to attach his mouth to your neck. He licks and sucks at your blood, whimpering at the taste of it on his tongue. Your body instinctively arches from the ground, your chest rubbing against his and spreading more of your blood between your bodies. It was the most beautiful visual you could imagine.
You looked down between your bodies to see Jungkook’s hand still stroking his cock as he continues to move his mouth down your body to the cut on your stomach. You can barely stand the burn in the pit of your stomach any longer, your desire for the man on top of you smoldering too hot.
“I need you now. Please.” You lace your hands into Jungkook’s hair and lift his face. The sight of his face covered in your blood, his eyes solid black with lust almost does you in completely.
“Such a good girl, saying please.” He moves back onto his knees, squeezing precum from the head of his cock before he releases it completely and picks the knife back up off the floor. You watch in awe as he brings it to his mouth and licks the blood from the blade.
“I always want to be good for you.” You say sweetly. His cock twitches at the sound of your obedient voice.
Jungkook moves the knife down between your legs and ever so carefully pressed the sharp blade to your underwear and drags it down until the fabric slices apart and reveals your absolutely drenched pussy to him. The knife clangs to the floor again and Jungkook leans back down to claim your mouth, his thumb immediately finding your clit.
Your lips part to moan and his tongue swipes against yours swallowing up all the sounds that escape you. The dripping head of his cock suddenly swipes through your folds and causes a high pitched whine to bubble up your throat.
“Is your pussy desperate to be filled, immortelle?” His hand swipes the blood on your stomach before it’s back on his cock, the blood lubing his shaft to make it easier when he fucks himself into you.
“Yes. It hurts, Jungkook.” You let your hands wander his chest and stomach, watching him watch you.
“I’m not going to last long once I get inside your perfect pussy, my love. But I need you to cum and I need you to scream.” Without warning he roughly spears himself inside you, his hands holding you on his cock as you writhe from the sudden intrusion.
“Oh my fucking god.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he starts to move, rough and hard.
“Made for me. I literally had you made just for me and you’re perfect. So fucking perfect and pliant just for me.” Jungkook’s hand comes down to your throat, careful of the cut across your skin, he gently tightens his grip.
You immediately see stars, wrapping both of your hands around his wrist to keep him in place. You gasp and moan at the feeling of him controlling your breathing and ruining your pussy at the same time. 
“I’m going to come. God I’m coming right now.” The words are quiet as he continues to hold your throat but he hears you just fine, moving his hand from your throat to play with your clit.
“Scream. I need you to scream so I can fill you up.” You open your eyes to see Jungkook watching you, his hair sweaty and mouth parted. Just when you’re about to beg for a kiss he punches your clit between his fingers and your orgasm rolls through you like a hurricane.
Black and white sparks explode behind your eyes and though you can’t hear yourself, you know that you scream loud and high pitched. Just what Jungkook needs to find his own end, dropping on top of you as he continues to fill you past the brim and onto your thighs.
Dried blood scratches between your skin and his as he lies on top of you, his head against your chest and your hands roaming the expanse of his broad shoulders. 
“You’re okay, immortelle?” He finally asks through his heavy breathing.
“I am, of course.” You lift his face to place a kiss to his lips.
“We didn’t even make it to the bed this time.” He laughs lightly, groaning as he pulls out and helps you sit up with him.
“I didn’t mind.” You both smile knowing he feels the same.
“I’ll never mind being with you, immortelle. Never.” He touches your cheek and kisses your lips once more.
“Even if…even if I keep forgetting?” 
“Even then. We are simply meant to be, my love.”
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